


Deep Cover

by dassala



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Federal Agents, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-10-19
Packaged: 2018-07-16 05:20:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 29,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7254070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dassala/pseuds/dassala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When his partner’s cover is blown on an undercover operation, Agent Killian Jones has to assume a fake identity to take down a drug dealer in the small town of Storybrooke, Maine. A wrench is thrown into the mission when he begins to fall for a charismatic waitress at the local diner, who just so happens to be the target’s ex-girlfriend…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

For a grocery store, the muzak cruising through the overhead speakers was particularly elevator-esque. Reaching through the rack next to him, David Nolan kept his eyes straight ahead and grabbed a loaf of sliced white bread. He tossed it into his shopping cart and spoke softly, seemingly to no one in particular.  


“Target in sight. I’m moving in to make initial contact,” he muttered.  


“ _Godspeed_ ,” came the reply through his incognito earpiece. Moving forward, David maneuvered his squeaky-wheeled cart towards the pastries, where a man stood, flipping through his text messages as he chewed on a toothpick. Grasping a piece of wax paper from the dispenser, David cleared his throat. The man looked up at him and raised an eyebrow, but otherwise did not bother to move a muscle.  


“Could I squeeze by you and grab a cruller?” David asked, gesturing to the doughnut case.  


The other man chuckled and stepped aside. “Yeah, man, sorry. Distracted. Work,” he grinned and gestured to his phone.   


Opening the Plexiglas case, David laughed and nodded. “Don’t I know it. My boss is always breathing down my neck. Yours too?”  


“You have no idea,” the man smirked. He looked back down at his phone when it released an alert tone.   


Placing his pastry into a bag, David closed it up and slid it into his cart, holding the door open. “Did you need something out of here, or were you just taking in the aroma of baked goods?”  


“Ah, I was just trying to decide what to get for my kid. His Mom’s bringing him tomorrow morning,” the man answered, shrugging.  


“How old is he?”   


The man thought for a moment, then laughed, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “Eleven, I think. Hard to keep track.”  


David grinned and nodded. “Mine’s ten. Lives with his Mom in Colorado. I’d go with the sprinkles. Pretty sure they’re still into sprinkles at that age.”  


“Hey, thanks,” the man nodded with a smile. “Hope your ex is friendlier than mine. She’s moving here with the kid, and I’m preparing for war.”  


David’s earpiece buzzed slightly. “ _Son is Henry, eleven years old as of April second. Ex-girlfriend named Emma Swan, twenty eight years old. She gave birth to Henry while incarcerated in Phoenix for receiving stolen property_.” There was a low whistle, “ _She’s a bit of alright…_ ”  


“Mine’s friendly enough, I suppose. But the distance will be nice. Might stop the nagging,” David chuckled, ignoring his partner’s commentary, “Just moved in here. Glad to be away from her for a bit. Will miss my boy, though.”  


“Ah, well, welcome to Storybrooke,” Neal smirked.  


David gave a genuine smile and offered his hand. “Thanks. David Hopkins.”  


Neal paused for a moment, then took the stranger’s hand, shaking it firmly. “Neal Cassidy.”  


“Nice to meet you. Good luck with the doughnut. And the ex,” David smirked and turned, heading towards the produce section. He steered his cart to the left, focused on giving as convincing of an appearance of normalcy as possible. Cruising past the in-store Starbucks, he paused and looked at a mug, picking it up to examine it carefully in the coffee mega-chain’s merchandise area.  


“David?” A woman’s voice asked. He froze. There was no way anyone here knew him. Maybe it was another David.  


“It is you! Oh wow, David Nolan…long time no see!” The chipper brunette stepped forward, her petite stature and bright hazel eyes instantly reminding him of her identity. “It’s Mary Margaret. Do you remember me?”  


“ _Shit…_ ” his earpiece buzzed. “ _Is the target anywhere in sight? I thought you didn’t know anyone around here!_ ”  


“Uh,” David laughed nervously and looked around, shifting his weight as his knuckles turned white around the grip of the shopping cart.   


“I mean, of course, we just had coffee the one time, but…” he watched her complexion flush over with a vibrant shade of pink, obviously remembering that the encounter had included more than coffee.   


David felt his own face draining of all color as he saw Neal making his way towards them. Quickly, he shook his head and coughed into his hand. “Excuse me,” he rushed past the young woman, abandoning his cart and making a beeline for the exit.   


“I…” Mary Margaret stood, Grande skinny cinnamon dolce latte in-hand, stunned at David’s rapid departure. She glanced at the Barista behind the counter, who quickly averted his gaze and moved to back to the cash register. Sighing, she gave an embarrassed smile to the woman next to her and busied herself with fumbling one-handed for her shopping list.  


Outside, David gasped for air. He made his way out of sight of the sliding glass doors and spat a line of expletives towards the brick exterior wall of the grocery. “Maybe he didn’t hear anything,” he breathed after a moment.  


“ _Sorry, Nolan. You’re compromised_.” The voice in his ear was different. This time, it was his superior officer, Supervisory Agent Regina Hood. “ _Just get out of there as easily as you can. Avoid confrontation with the target_.”  


Turning off the microphone, Regina turned her back to the surveillance monitor and sighed. She glanced down at Nolan’s partner, Special Agent Killian Jones. “Well, Blue Eyes, you’re up.”  


Killian’s dark eyebrows lifted. He glanced around the surveillance van and blinked a couple of times. “Me? Forgive me, your Highness, but I hardly think I’m the man for your job. I’ve no experience in undercover work…just a smidgeon of training.”  


“Everyone starts somewhere,” Regina shrugged. “That’s no way to address a superior officer. It’s Regina or Agent Hood.” She patted his shoulder.   


Releasing a heavy breath, Killian rubbed at his ear for a moment. “And David?”  


“He’ll be the bug in your ear, just like you were for him. Start working on your story and rehearse the hell out of it. We’ll put you in the field in three weeks.” Sliding the curtain aside, the svelte agent in the snappy pantsuit took a seat in the passenger side of the van. She pulled out her mobile and tapped a few numbers on the screen. “Collect Nolan and we’ll head back to the office.”  


Back inside the grocery, David coughed a couple of times as he entered. He paused in the small coffee shop and glanced around. He turned his head just in time to see the back of Mary Margaret’s pink peacoat as she made her way down an aisle. Grabbing his cart, he hurried towards her, squeaky wheel and all.  


“Mary Margaret!” He called out at the end of the aisle, aiming to make her stop.  


The young woman turned, raising an eyebrow at the tall, well-built man who had abandoned her so unceremoniously moments ago. The grin she knew from so many years ago flashed at her. He reached up to his ear and fidgeted with it a moment. She could not help but note how well his red plaid shirt fit his chest and biceps.   


“I’m sorry,” he laughed, feigning another cough into the crook of his arm. “I’m just getting over this terrible cold, and I didn’t want to cough all over you. How are you? It’s been a while.”  


“Oh,” Mary Margaret blushed and seemed to relax a bit, her shoulders sinking slightly in relief, rather than a more defiant stance. “I’m well. Thank you. I thought maybe…because you never called and because you ran just now…”  


“I lost your number,” David spat quickly. He shook his head. “I know it sounds like some junk excuse, but it’s true. I had it in my pocket after our coffee date in college, and then my Mom came to visit and grabbed my laundry before I had a chance to move it. It got washed and I was devastated.”  


“Oh,” she repeated, looking down at the galoshes she had chosen to wear that rainy Saturday morning. The rubber boots were patterned with cartoon bluebirds. She felt overwhelmingly sheepish. “That’s okay. I mean…anyway…when did you move here?”  


“Well, I didn’t really. I’m here for work. You? I thought you’d stay in Savannah forever. You loved it there.”  


With a shrug, Mary Margaret smiled. “Sometimes, people surprise you. I needed a change of pace. Savannah was pretty busy. Storybrooke seemed like a better place to settle down.”  


“It does,” he smiled softly. “Are…are you seeing anyone?”  


“I’m married,” she blurted.   


David was unable to stop his jaw from dropping ever-so-slightly. He shut his mouth and forced a smile. “Well, congratulations, then. He’s a very lucky man.”  


“No, I mean, I was married. Well, I am, but…we’re getting a divorce,” she corrected quickly, taking a step closer to him, holding her coffee in both hands. “It didn’t exactly work out.”  


Pushing his hands into his pockets, David tried to ignore the beeping in his ear. “Well, I’m probably here for a few weeks. If you’d like to get together, I’ll put your number in here…so I don’t lose it this time.” He pulled a cell phone from his pocket and wiggled it with a smirk.  


The pixie haircut, which was new to David, framed her face with a fringe of black locks as she considered the option for a moment. She reached out and grabbed his phone, creating a new contact and saving her phone number into it. As she handed it back, she smiled. “Granny’s has some pretty good food, if you’re interested. Just give me a call.”  


“I will,” he rocked back on his feet slightly and tipped his head forward, eyes on hers. “I promise. I have to go, though. Work calls.”  


With a nod, Mary Margaret smirked. “Go. I’ll see you later.” She turned back to her shopping cart and made her way down the cereal aisle.  


Turning on his heel, David pressed the button on his earpiece.   


“ _Her name is Rio and she dances on the saaaaand…_ ” Agent Jones’ voice crooned into his ear.  


“Dude, stop. Did you see him leave?” David left his abandoned cart and headed for the door.   


“ _Oh there you are, Special Agent Nolan. Did you enjoy your little chat with your friend? Because while you were ignoring me, the target left the store and I started working on my own cover story because I’ve got to take over this operation, now. Way to blow it, Mate_.” Killian grumbled.  


“I…Killian, she’s the one that got away. I couldn’t just leave like that,” Sighing, David jogged towards the surveillance van, which had been parked behind the small grocery.   


“ _Better be worth it. You’re going to help me. I’ve no bloody idea what I’m doing_ ,” Killian shut off the microphone and moved to the driver’s seat. He started the ignition on the van and waited until David had climbed inside before pulling away.  



	2. Chapter 2

The autumn chill had set in for the sleepy little town of Storybrooke in the weeks since David’s cover had been blown. Closing the door to the small sedan he had been lent by the government and slinging a backpack over his shoulder, Killian climbed the short stairway into the only watering hole in town. The Rabbit Hole. He gave a nod to the owner as he approached, reaching out to take the other man by the hand.  


“Jefferson, good to see you again,” Killian shook Jefferson Hatter’s hand firmly.  


“Mr. Black, welcome,” Jefferson offered a polite smile, but his eyes were not engaged in the expression. He was a melancholy sort of man, with a bit of haunting sadness behind his gaze.  


“Please, call me Killian,” the agent replied, looking around. “Nice place you’ve got here.”  


Jefferson followed Killian’s gaze around the room and shrugged his shoulders, tucking his hands into his pockets. “It’s alright, I suppose. Not exactly the high-volume kind of pub you’re used to in London, I’m sure. What brings you to the U.S. anyway?”  


“Fresh start,” Killian smirked, “A pretty lass broke my heart. Thought a big move was in order to get me back on track.”  


The amused reaction from Jefferson was more genuine than his greeting. He chuckled slightly, “Yes, I can understand that. Well, the apartment is up those stairs there. Once you’re settled in, come on down and have a drink, on me.” Handing over a set of keys, Jefferson gestured up the stairs to his left.  


“Cheers, Mate,” Killian grinned and headed up the stairs towards the flat he had let from the bar’s proprietor. Fumbling a bit with the two keys in his hand, he grasped one and slid it into the deadbolt, which turned with ease. He took the doorknob in his other hand and turned, stepping into a dim room. Once inside, Killian dropped his backpack and reached for the switch on the wall. With a click, the room illuminated.  


The flat was exposed brick on two walls, with floor-to-ceiling windows. Long drapes were tied back from each of the openings, black in color. The furnishings were sparse; yet not necessarily the kind of inexpensive items one would expect in a rented space. There was a worn-looking brown leather armchair next to the gray fabric sofa, both which cozied around a wood-burning fireplace. The kitchen was to his right, small but adequate for his solo needs. The butcher-block island alone would be sufficient for his work and dining. Around the corner from the kitchen was a lone bedroom. More windows brightened the space, flanked again by the heavy draperies. Moving towards them, he grasped the rope and let each drape fall, to plunge the room into darkness. He climbed upon the king-size bed and laid back, closing his eyes. Tomorrow, he would become what he hated the most; a liar.  


\--  


The bell rang loudly at Storybrooke Elementary as children rushed into their appointed classrooms. Eleven year-old Henry Swan slid into his seat, a well-worn wooden chair with a large desk attached. He opened the top of the desk and pulled out a blue folder, opening it to remove the math homework he had finished before leaving on Friday. Glancing up at the front of the room, the young boy’s brow furrowed. Similar looks of confusion spread throughout the room.  


“Mr. Black” was the name scrawled upon the chalkboard before the befuddled students. A man was sitting at the desk, flipping through a copy of the math textbook which had been sitting on the desk when he came in.  


“Um, excuse me?” A pretty little blonde girl asked, raising her hand slowly.  


Killian looked up from a page on statistics, wondering when in the hell children began studying things like this. “Yes, Love?”  


A simultaneous, rolling giggle spread among the female population of the classroom and the girl with the raised hand lowered it just as slowly as the blush spread from her neck to her cheeks. “Um,” she started again, clearing her throat softly, “Where is Mr. Piper?”  


“Mr. Piper will not be with us for a while. He’s had a bit of trouble with his knee, and may require some surgery. In the meantime,” Killian stood and leaned back against the chalkboard, raising his right hand to point to the name on it. “I will be your instructor. I’m Mr. Black.”  


Dressed in the most “teacher-esque” apparel he could muster, Killian straightened his suit jacket and grabbed the notes from his desk. “I believe you have some homework due to me, per Mr. Piper’s notes? Please pass it forward and I will collect it from the front row.”  


The students muttered to one another, but Killian’s eyes came to rest on the quiet boy towards the back of the class. He knew from his files that the boy was Henry Swan, the formerly-estranged son of Emma Swan and Neal Gold.  


After collecting the stacks of paper from the front row, he placed them atop the desk and took a seat on the edge of it. “Right, who can tell me what you’re reading right now?”  


A chorus of voices muttered that they were reading The Wizard of Oz. More shuffling noises in the room as the students rooted around for their books. Killian hopped off the desk and moved around behind it, reaching down into a drawer to remove a paperback copy of the book.  


“Ah, yes. Dorothy and the Ruby Slippers and all that?”  


“Silver shoes,” a voice piped up from the back. The other students turned to look, and a few whispered. Young Henry shot his hand up. “Sorry, I forgot to raise my hand.”  


Smirking, Killian nodded and gave a chuckle. “Well, raising your hand is certainly good form, but thank you for the input. You see, I’ve only ever seen the film.”  


“They changed the shoes to red for the movie,” Henry said again, offering up a shy smile.  


“Probably makes more sense, given that it was a color film and red shoes would be a slight more interesting,” the instructor commented. “What’s your name, Lad?”  


“Henry,” the boy replied. “Henry Swan.”  


“Well thank you, Henry. Gold star for you. Who else knew the shoes were silver?”  


The students giggled a little and all raised their hands. Killian chuckled and shook his head. “Fibbers, the lot of you.”  


A few hours into their lessons, and the bell rang. Grabbing lunch boxes and bags, the children began to file out of the room. Killian moved to his desk to grab a sandwich he had packed. As he sat down, he noticed Henry remained in his seat.  


“Henry?” Killian asked, standing again to approach the child. “Everything alright? Do you have a lunch?”  


Looking up from his book, Henry nodded with a smile. “Yeah, my Mom made me something. I’m just reading.”  


Killian grabbed a chair, turning it backwards. He sat down, legs splayed on either side of the chair’s back. “You’d rather read than go to the cafeteria or play yard with your friends?”  


The boy’s mouth twisted slightly in a frown. “I’m new, like you. I don’t really have any friends here.”  


“Is that right?” Killian’s eyebrow raised. He nodded slowly. “Where are you from then, Henry?”  


“Ohio,” Henry replied. He looked down at his book again, dog-earing the page before he closed it. “Mom and I just moved here to live with my Dad. He has a really nice house on the water, and he said he wanted to see me more.”  


“That’s nice of your parents to live together again,” a grin spread across Killian’s features. The kid would be worth a bit more intel than he thought. “Do you like it here?”  


“No,” Henry said bluntly. He leaned back in his chair and sighed. “I miss Ohio. I miss it just being me and my Mom. Dad’s okay, but…he’s always busy with work. And he and Mom yell at each other sometimes.”  


Killian’s heart sank. He felt for the young lad, having to witness his parents’ quarrels. “Sometimes adults do that. What does your father do?”  


“He’s a…day trader? I don’t know really what that is, but he spends a lot of time on the phone talking about buying and selling things,” he shrugged. “Mom says she’s glad he’s working ‘legitimately’ for once. What’s legitimately mean?”  


So the girlfriend was under the illusion that the subject’s work was day trading as well. Gold’s background had been in petty crimes before discovering his niche in hard narcotics. It seemed neither of them had any idea what they were facing.  


“Ah, it means…doing good work,” Killian offered, forcing a smile. “Now, one of the most important lessons you’ll ever learn is that you will never make friends unless you try. So why don’t you leave your book, take your lunch, and head out there to that table of kids? Take your jacket.”  


With a slight smile, Henry stood. “Okay, thanks Mr. Black.”  


As he watched Henry head out of the classroom, Killian ran a hand through his hair. The situation would be all the more delicate with an oblivious woman and child in the mix. Any infiltration of Gold’s property would have to be executed with the utmost care.  


\--  


Just like there seemed to be one watering hole in town, above which he lived, there also seemed to be just one local diner. Granny’s, it was called. The bell rang on the door as Killian stepped inside, taking in the smell of greasy burgers and lasagna. Perfect. He shrugged loose his khaki jacket and placed it on the back of a bar stool before taking a seat at the bar. The plastic-covered menu in front of him provided a few options. Now that he was technically off-duty without David murmuring in his ear, he could enjoy a burger and a beer.  


“Be right with you,” a melodic voice said as a thin blonde whisked by him, delivering a plate of lasagna to the table behind him. Killian glanced over his shoulder. He could see her from the back, in tight skinny jeans, a long mauve tank top, and brown boots. Damn. Maybe it would not be so horrible to have a little bit of fun while in this little town. When the waitress turned, he was met with familiar green eyes.  


Doing his best not to stammer, he smiled casually and turned back to his menu. It was the face which had looked at him from her mug shot in Neal’s file: Gold’s ex-girlfriend, Emma Swan. Henry’s mother.  


Emma moved back behind the counter and wiped down a few spaces next to him. “You ready to order?”  


“Ah,” he stumbled a bit over his words and smiled again, feeling a blush rising in his cheeks. “I think so. A beer and a cheese burger, please?”  


“Fries?” She dropped the towel into a bucket of sanitizer and scribbled down his order on a pad she pulled from her back pocket.  


“Onion rings,” he replied, placing the menu back into the table caddy.  


“A man after my own heart,” she grinned at him and moved towards the kitchen, placing the ticket up on the turntable and swinging it around to the line cook.  


Breathing in deeply, he chuckled softly and gave a slight nod, raising his voice just enough to compensate for the distance between them. “Well, you can have fries anywhere. The true test of a diner is in its onion rings.”  


After pouring a perfect draught of beer, Emma slid it onto the counter in front of him. She grinned. “Wait until you try the pie.”  


Killian watched Emma saunter away to help another customer who had just entered, a rather grumpy looking short gentleman with ‘Leroy’ written on his navy blue work uniform. Grabbing his phone from his pocket, he sent a brief text to David.  


_**Made contact with Swan. She might be one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen.**_  


Glancing back up, he took a swig from his beer and waited for a reply from his best mate and partner. His phone announced a new message with a five-note scale from Devo’s ‘Whip It’, but Killian was disappointed to see the change in subject. Two photos came across, of David from the neck to his waist, holding up two different plaid shirts. One in black buffalo check with subtle hints of red, and the other a blue plaid.  


**Which one?**  


Killian’s eyebrow raised. He replied with a sigh. _**Why?**_  


**Just tell me.**  


A warm plate with a burger and onion rings slid across the bar in front of him. Looking up, he saw Emma smiling and offering up a bottle of ketchup. “Look okay to you?”  


“That was fast,” he grinned, taking the ketchup from her. “More than okay. The burger looks good, too.”  


Emma felt a blush creeping up her neck to her jawline. “Great, let me know if you need anything else,” She turned quickly to the wall of glasses behind her and began stocking them.  


“Actually,” he opened up his phone and pulled up one of the photos, “I need your expert opinion.”  


Turning back, Emma’s eyebrow raised. She glanced at the phone and shrugged at the black and red shirt. “Expert? Well…I’m not necessarily an expert in these things, but it’s an okay shirt.”  


Swiping at the screen, he showed her the photo of the blue shirt. Emma nodded and smiled. “That one. You’ve got blue eyes. It’ll bring them out.”  


“Oh, it’s for a friend,” he chuckled, texting the answer to David.  


**_Blue one. Brings out your eyes._** He followed the text with an emoji of a pair of lips.  


“But thank you,” he continued, “Being a woman, you’d give a better opinion on fashion than I do. I think my buddy has a date.”  


Emma appeared embarrassed for a moment, looking down at her apron and smoothing it out a bit with a laugh. “Oh, well. If he has blue eyes, it’ll probably work for him, too.”  


“He does. But…he’s obviously taken,” Killian picked up an onion ring and examined it. “Maybe I should get a shirt like that.”  


“I suppose that depends on the date, doesn’t it?” Her chest rose with a deep breath and she shook her head slightly, as if realizing she was flirting and mentally putting an end to it. Clearing her throat, she nodded at the onion ring. “Verdict?”  


Killian took a bite of the deep-fried onion and chewed slowly, then nodded. “Pretty good. Might have to come here often.”  


“Great,” she flipped open her notepad and slid the ticket for the meal across the counter. “Let me know what you decide on that pie.” She turned and headed into the back, the kitchen door swinging upon her departure.  


His phone chimed. **Thanks, Sweetums. Don’t blow your cover by chasing tail. She could be in cahoots with Gold.**  


Scratching behind his ear, Killian sighed and took another bite from his onion ring, lost in thought. He seriously doubted Emma was in on Neal’s business transactions, especially considering she was working in a dump like this.  


He did his best not to appear is if he was watching her too closely as she worked, but his position at the bar was less than prime for a stealthy surveillance mission. Who was he kidding, though? This wasn’t surveillance; he was genuinely interested in this woman. She left for the back again, and Killian forced himself to focus on his meal rather than on the waitress.  


After finishing up his burger, Agent Jones wiped his mouth with his napkin and left a $20 on the bar, scribbling on a napkin before he pulled on his jacket and left, the bell on the door dinging behind him.  


Emma emerged from the back with a tray of freshly-washed glasses and silverware. She noted the blue-eyed man’s disappearance and moved to take the cash from the bar. As she cleaned up the plate, she turned her head slightly to look at the napkin next to the money.  


_I’ll take a rain check on the pie. Thanks, K._  


Emma lifted her eyebrows and cleared the space before pocketing the generous tip, left over from his $10 check.  



	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry's home life gives Killian a sense of urgency.

“Right, you lot. Today, we’re going to talk about Dorothy’s relationship with her family,” Killian took a sip from his coffee and sat on the edge of his desk. “Who can tell me about her family?”  


A boy in the front raised his hand.  


“Oliver?”  


“She lives with her Aunt Em and her Uncle Henry,” the boy replied carefully. “And her dog Toto.”  


Killian smiled. “That’s right. She certainly does. See, there are all kinds of different families. I’d like you all to write one page about your family. Who is in it? What do they enjoy doing? Tell me about them from the way you see them.”  


A couple of the kids groaned as they all got out their composition books and pencils. Killian began a slow stroll around the room, watching the children as they either doodled on the edges of their pages, or wrote long sentences describing their families. He paused for a moment at Henry’s desk, seeing the boy’s page completely blank. He crouched next to the desk.  


“Having a tough time coming up with how to start, Lad?” He asked the boy, who glanced over at the teacher and shrugged.  


“My family isn’t really normal,” Henry sighed.  


Shaking his head, Killian tapped the book in front of Henry. “Neither was Dorothy’s. And look what she accomplished?”  


A slight smile showed on Henry’s lips and he nodded a little.  


“You told me you live with your Mum and your Dad. Tell me about them. I know you just moved here. So tell me about your life before you moved to Storybrooke, too. I’d love to read all about it,” Killian smiled at the boy and stood, moving along the rows of desks. After a few more minutes, the bell sounded.  


“Pass those up to the front, please! No homework tonight unless you didn’t finish!” The kids cheered and passed raw-edged notebook pages up to the front of the class, which Killian collected. He winked at Henry as the boy left, handing him his own page, personally.  


As the children filed out, Killian took a seat at his desk and leaned back in his chair. He kicked his feet up onto the surface of the desk, placing all of the papers down, with the exception of Henry’s.  


_Henry Swan, Grade 6, Mr. Black  
_

_My family is kind of different. For a really long time, I lived with my Mom in Ohio, but I was born in Arizona. My Mom and Dad aren’t married, like Moms and Dads are supposed to be. Mom says they want to raise me together._  


_I know it makes my Mom sad to live here. She’s never really happy at home. She reads a lot and goes on walks down by the water. Dad is always really busy with work. He talks on the phone like all the time. Sometimes I hear him talking to Mom at night and they usually end up yelling. I don’t like it when they do that._  


_Dad promised me he’d fix things. He said he had a big surprise for Mom. I hope he does something really nice. She deserves it. She’s a really good Mom. We play video games together and she always reads what I’m reading in school so we can talk about it at home._  


_I don’t have any pets or anything, and I don’t have any brothers or sisters. But I think it’d be cool to have some someday. Maybe after Dad’s big surprise for Mom, she will think about that._  


Killian smiled sadly and placed an ‘A’ at the top of the paper. He sighed and leaned back, tapping the small earpiece behind his ear.  


_“Yo,”_ David answered.  


Looking around the windows and the door, he sighed. “This poor kid, we gotta get him and his Mom out of here.”  


_“I know. CPS will take care of him after we bust Gold and the girlfriend.”_  


Shaking his head, he frowned. “I’m serious. I don’t think Emma’s in on it. Did you read my report?”  


There was a sigh in his ear. David cleared his throat. _“Do we need to send someone else in? You’re getting emotional about this. It’s an investigation, Killian…”_  


Standing, Killian collected his things and shoved them in his backpack. “I’m coming to you. Be there in twenty.” He clicked off his earpiece and pulled it out, shoving that into the bag as well. This was not a conversation to have over the phone. He could do this, and his emotions were just…what…pity? The kid had a miserable life now that he was here with his deadbeat, drug-dealing father.  


With the radio on full blast, Killian drove out along the outskirts of Storybrooke, taking a few liberties with the speed limit. He nearly slid out along one of the curves, but coaxed the vehicle’s tires into hugging the pavement tightly, throwing his body against the center console before gravity allowed him to right himself. He turned onto the gravel driveway and flashed his lights twice. He checked his rear-view mirror, and when he saw no one following, he drove into the opening garage in front of him. Once inside, he parked and unbuckled his seatbelt as the door lowered. David stood in the doorway between the house and the garage.  


“You look dapper, Mr. Black,” David smirked, referring to the khakis, blue and green plaid shirt, and grey tie Killian had worn to the school.  


With a sigh, Killian loosened up the tie and unfastened the top few buttons on his shirt. He pushed past David and walked inside, where Regina sat with a plate of cheese fries and a Coke. His eyes narrowed at the combination. Regina was usually a kale salad and lemon water kind of woman.  


Looking up from her laptop, Regina snagged a fry. She let some of the cheese drip off before she pushed it into her mouth and reached for the soda.  


“Bad day?” Killian asked, pulling out a chair. He turned it around and sat, his legs on either side of the back of the seat.  


Regina snorted and swallowed her mouthful of soda. “You could say that. Why are you here?”  


David made his way into the room and shut the door behind him, sitting next to Killian.  


“Dave thinks I’m emotionally compromised,” Killian thumbed a gesture towards his partner. “You’ve read my reports. What do you think?”  


“I think you’re fine. A certain level of emotional involvement makes your cover better. Just don’t bang the suspect’s girlfriend, okay?” She pointed at Killian. “You and your sexy charm. You know it’s hopeless with her, right?”  


Rolling his eyes and leaning his head back, Killian sighed. “I’m not going to bloody do anything of the sort. I’m just trying to get closer to Gold. The closer I get, the more intel I can gather.”  


“Good,” Regina sighed and grabbed another fry. She chewed it slowly before speaking. “My boss wanted to pull the plug on the investigation and I stuck my neck out for you. Both of you.”  


“Me?!” David asked, incredulously. “Why me?”  


“Because you got your cover blown. And I’m allowing you to run around Storybrooke with the woman who blew your cover,” Regina responded, her eyes flashing at the blond, muscular agent.  


Killian glanced at David out of the corner of his eye. David turned a bright red and nodded, clasping his hands on the table. “Only when I’m off-duty.”  


“We need to make some progress. Can you call a parent-teacher conference or something?”  


Frowning, Killian shook his head. “Gold doesn’t strike me as someone concerned with his child’s education. I’m sure if I did, Emma would come. But that hardly does much for us. I’ve already met with her.”  


Nodding, Regina tapped out a few things on her keyboard, speaking distractedly. “Then keep that up, and find out as much as you can. I’ve been working on his offshore accounts in Antigua.”  


“Any grapevine leads on his supplier?”  


Pressing her lips together, Regina shook her head and closed her laptop. “None. I’m hoping you can find out. Won’t be easy.”  


Not easy was what Killian understood the most about this job. He had not the foggiest idea about how to get the intel he needed to nail Neal Gold to the wall.  


\--  


“It’s not like you’re married to him. You don’t even like the guy that much,” Mary-Margaret suggested, sipping from her teacup.  


“I know,” Emma muttered, spinning her own cup around in its saucer. “I just feel kind of guilty. For one thing, I’m living in his house.”  


“Come live here, with me!” The loft apartment was small, but Mary-Margaret had configured it for two bedrooms after she moved in. She had considered a roommate from the start, but her new job at the high school was helping foot the bill for a solo place. Still, she would not mind Emma as a roommate whatsoever, so long as it got her out of Neal’s house.  


Emma sighed and shook her head. “You know I can’t leave Henry. Something’s not right at home. I won’t leave him there without me.”  


“Not right?” Mary-Margaret’s dark eyebrow arched slowly. “Like, as in you think Neal’s doing something bad?”  


Shrugging, the blonde woman shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s just the tension. Neal and I fight after Henry goes to bed. He tries to make a move on me all the time, and it’s just…I don’t love him anymore. Sometimes I’m not sure how I ever did. And with him on the phone all the time and hardly paying any attention to Henry, it seems like it wasn’t worth it to move up here with him.”  


Mary-Margaret went quiet for a moment, lost in thought. She leaned over and bumped Emma’s shoulder with her own. “New topic. Tell me about this guy at the diner.”  


A blush spread across Emma’s cheeks. She bit down on her lip and took in a deep breath. “Well, he’s funny, he has these gorgeous blue eyes, and he tipped me 100% on his check.”  


A dark eyebrow raising on her fair-skinned face, Mary-Margaret paused. “Is his name David?”  


“No,” Emma shook her head. “At least I don’t think so. He signed his note with a ‘K’.”  


“Tall, blond, muscular and gorgeous?” It was in her nature to distrust men at this point in her life. With her marriage to Victor melting down into a trembling puddle of what-used-to-be, she applied his indiscretions to men in general.  


“Nope, but you must explain more about that…he was muscular, but more on the lean side. Looked tall, but he was sitting. Dark hair. Lots of it. The kind that you just want to…” she mimicked running her fingers through a man’s hair, laughing.  


“Well, maybe you should. I’m serious, Emma. You’re not tied to Neal. You can enjoy yourself here,” Mary-Margaret smiled and took another sip from her cup of tea. “Storybrooke isn’t prison.”  


Emma knew that all-too-well. She and Neal had broken up before Henry was born due to her stint in an Arizona prison. Neal had skipped North to Canada, leaving her pregnant and in possession of stolen property. She nearly gave Henry up for adoption, but at the last minute, something had swayed her to keep her son. A decision she never once regretted. Sighing, Emma nodded. “I guess I just need to sit down and have a discussion with Neal before I go making a move on any customers.”  


“Yeah, that’s good. Tell him how you feel. Don’t let him intimidate you and make you feel like you have to live under his thumb,” her friend smiled.  


“Now you. David? Tall, blond, and muscular?”  


The two women giggled and Mary-Margaret leaned back in her chair, shaking her head. “Okay, well…when I was in college down in Savannah, I met up with this guy who was a trainee at the Federal Law Enforcement Training Center, FLETC. Some friends set us up. His name was David, and he was amazing. We had so much in common. We clicked almost immediately,” Mary-Margaret licked her lips, “So much so…that our coffee date ended at his apartment. Overnight.”  


Emma’s eyes widened and she giggled. “Mary-Margaret, you put out on the first date?! I’m shocked!”  


Mary-Margaret bit down on her lower lip and cleared her throat. “About three times.”  


The two women collapsed further into giggles. Once Mary-Margaret was able to regain her composure, she sighed. “Anyway, I didn’t hear from him again. A few weeks ago, I ran into him here at the supermarket. Can you believe it? He explained that he literally lost my number back then and he always regretted it.”  


“You probably never would have married Victor if he hadn’t have lost it,” Emma frowned. “Kinda sucks.”  


“Well, maybe this is a way for me to get a fresh start. I’m moving on. And so I think you should, too. At the very least, find out who this guy is. I think you owe that to yourself,” Mary-Margaret smiled at her friend.  


A knock at the door made Mary-Margaret jump. She looked at her watch and cursed under her breath. “Emma, I am so sorry. I lost track of time. Can you answer the door?” She grabbed the teacups and hurried them to the kitchen sink before dashing off to her bathroom.  


Emma watched Mary-Margaret’s hurried movements and stood, moving towards the door. She unlocked it and pulled it open to see a tall, muscular, blond man with a slightly confused look.  


“Oh. Um, I was looking for Mary-Margaret?” He shifted nervously where he stood.  


“You’re in the right place,” Emma smiled, opening the door and letting him in. “I’m Emma, Mary-Margaret’s friend.”  


For a minute, David was thinking he had mixed the addresses in his head. He cleared his throat and stepped inside, grinning at Emma. “Phew. I thought maybe I knocked on some random stranger’s door. I’m David.”  


Emma took David’s offered hand and laughed. “You’re good. I was just leaving.” Grabbing her jacket, she pulled it onto her shoulders and cleared her throat. “Bye, Mary-Margaret! Call me tomorrow…”  


“Bye!” Came a voice from the bathroom as Emma headed out the door.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all of the great feedback! I really appreciate it!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A proposal to remember.

The front door closed behind Emma as she stepped into the spacious living room of the house Neal had purchased, right on the waterfront. The house was open and bright, with luxury living furnishings and the very best of finishes.  


“Henry?” Emma asked, dropping her keys by the front door and stopping to balance herself on the back of the sofa while she removed her boots.  


Quick footsteps hurried across the hardwood floor, and Emma saw her son skidding around a corner, a bright grin on his face.  


“Mom! You’re home! C’mon,” Henry grabbed Emma’s arm and dragged her through the living room, into the kitchen. Emma laughed and hurried along with her son, her mood instantly brightened by the boy’s never-ending enthusiasm.  


“What is the deal?” she asked, looking around. The rest of the house seemed deserted, as if Henry had just arrived home, himself.  


Henry grinned over his shoulder, then shoved open the back door. “Surprise!” He led her out onto the back deck, where the trees had been adorned with white Christmas lights and a table had been set beneath them.   


“Henry! Did you do this?” Emma asked in amazement. She looked around with a grin, impressed by her son’s abilities. He was young, but he had an old soul, so it was not unreasonable to think he was capable.  


“Nope,” Henry shook his head. “Dad did it. I’m just showing it to you.” He pointed off to the side, where Neal stepped from behind one of the evergreens, smiling at her and giving a little wave.  


“Hey,” Neal said, adjusting the tie he was wearing.  


Henry let go of his mother’s hand and picked up his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder. “I’m going to Charlie’s to stay the night. I’ll be home tomorrow afternoon. Bye!” With an excited giggle, Henry darted out of sight, toward the neighbor’s house.  


Emma hardly had a chance to respond. She watched Henry leave, only managing to making a small sound of protest in the back of her throat. She turned to look at Neal and took a deep breath, shaking her head.  


“Emma, just…listen to me,” Neal said, raising a hand to stop her before she could speak. He stepped forward. “Henry wants us to work. I want us to work. You’re the only one in the equation who is giving any hint of hesitation. And…and I can’t say I know why.”  


Eyes widening, Emma’s stance became defensive as she shifted her weight to one hip and crossed her arms over her chest. “You honestly don’t know why we don’t work? Let’s see…where should I begin?”  


“I’ve changed, Emma. All of this is for you. I want to be a better father to Henry, and I want to be a good husband for you,” Neal explained. He stepped closer.  


“Husband! Boy, maybe I gave the wrong impression by coming here…” Emma started.  


Neal pulled a box from his pocket and opened it, showing a large diamond ring to Emma. He knelt slowly. “Please, Emma. Give us a chance. Henry wants this, and I want this. Just…try for us, okay?”  


She glanced at the ring, but then looked to Neal. “Did you tell Henry you were going to propose to me?”  


Grinning, Neal nodded. “He helped me pick out the ring. You wouldn’t want to disappoint the kid, would you? C’mon. He thinks if we get married, things will get better. And who’s to say they won’t? He even said he’d like to have a little sister or brother…”  


“Neal, stop. Just stop.” Emma threw up her hands in frustration and backed away from him. “No. I’m not going to marry you. In fact, I would very much like to move out of here and get my own place.”  


He blinked, then chuckled, standing. “On tips from the diner? I hardly think you can manage that in a seaside town like Storybrooke. The real estate isn’t cheap, you know. You’re throwing away this whole thing…for what?”  


“For a chance to find out who I am,” Emma sighed. She shook her head, “Neal, you have been a part of my life since I was seventeen years old, and I’m tired of my life revolving around you. I love Henry. I love him so, so much and I’m so thankful for him, despite how he came to be. But now, I need to move on. Date people. Have my own life.”  


Shaking his head, Emma could see color rising up Neal’s neck, over the buttoned collar of his shirt.   


“And I already have a place to go. The rent isn’t bad,” she ran a hand through her hair and tried to lower her tone. It was obvious she was angering him. Glancing down at her bare feet in the grass, she tried to think of a way to make the whole deal sound better. What would she say to Henry?  


Before she had the chance to look back up at him, Emma was stumbling backward, shoved hard at the shoulders by Neal. She fell against the steps leading up to the deck, the hard wood biting into her spine. Hissing in pain, Emma stood slowly. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”  


“The kid thinks we’re getting married, Emma. I paid good money for this fucking ring. You’re going to wear it,” he growled, his voice low as he threw the ring box at Emma’s feet. “And see if you can keep a job or get a place to rent anywhere in town if I have anything to say about it. I practically own Storybrooke.”  


For the first time in her life, a man had struck her. If she was not in complete shock, she most likely would have hit back. But this was…it was so strange to her. Bending, Emma picked up the ring box. Her back ached as she did so, but she grasped the navy velvet box and opened it, looking again at the ring. It was obviously large and expensive, but the touch which recognized as Henry’s contribution was a dash of filigree around the band. It made the setting seem more old-fashioned and timeless. She heard Neal sigh and looked up at him.  


“I’m sorry, Emma. I’m sorry,” Neal pulled her close, holding her body against him. Emma’s arms were awkwardly pinned between their chests.  


“It…it’s okay. You probably just…I mean, I can tell you put a lot into this. But…I’ll think about it, okay?” Emma licked her lips and closed the box as she pulled back from his grasp. “I’ll consider.”  


“Thank you,” Neal smiled. He gestured to the table. “Dinner’s getting cold. Hungry? We’d better eat. I have a meeting at nine.”  


Out of pure fear for what would happen if she rejected him again, Emma smiled and nodded, moving to the table. Neal pulled out her chair. As she sat down, he leaned in and kissed the top of her head. The gesture made Emma want to vomit. There was no way she would be able to accept Neal’s proposal, given his reaction when she brought up moving in with Mary-Margaret. The trick would be actually finding a way to get out of there without getting hurt.   


\--  


“And then I said, ‘Dude, you can’t just grow a new one,’” David smirked.   


Mary-Margaret laughed loudly, grasping David’s arm tightly. She shook her head. “Oh my God, I hope I meet this guy soon. You guys are hilarious.”  


“Yeah, yeah he’s…he’s a good friend. My best friend, actually,” smiling, he looked down at Mary-Margaret and paused. “For now, anyway.”  


Turning slightly to face him, Mary-Margaret raised an eyebrow since David had stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. “For now?”  


Reaching up, David brushed some of Mary-Margaret’s dark hair from her eyes. He smiled softly. “Yeah. Some people are lucky enough to find a best friend in someone they love…”  


Catching on, Mary-Margaret bit her lower lip and looked down at her shoes, blushing deeply.   


David let his fingers trace around Mary-Margaret’s rounded cheeks and tilted up her chin with the gentlest touch of his fingers. He leaned in and kissed her slowly.  


It was like freezing and melting all at the same time. Mary-Margaret’s posture first went stiff, but then the soft touch of his lips made her entire body relax into his. She slid her arms up around David’s neck and stepped closer, smiling against his lips.  


“Well, you don’t waste much time, it seems,” came a voice from behind David’s back.  


Gasping, Mary-Margaret stepped back and brought a hand to her lips. Her eyes were wide with surprise. David turned to see a man behind him, with blonde hair, dark blue eyes, and a particular scowl across his features. He glanced from the man back to Mary-Margaret.  


“This isn’t any of your business, Victor,” she finally whispered quickly.   


With a tilt of his head, David realized what was going on. He offered a hand to the other man. “David Nolan. You must be Victor Whale.”  


“Doctor Whale,” Victor insisted. He merely glanced at David’s hand and pulled out his phone, snapping a quick photo of David and Mary-Margaret standing together. “I’m sure my lawyer will find this fascinating. It’ll probably help me get out of any spousal support.”  


Mary-Margaret stepped forward, her hands balled into fists at her side. “Oh yeah? Should I dig up those text messages from that tramp at the hospital? Or maybe the emails from the one who lives in Baltimore? Let’s talk about the girl who used to wait tables at Granny’s shall we?” Her voice raised an octave higher with each mention.  


David placed a hand on Mary-Margaret’s shoulder. He leaned in to her. “He’s nothing, Mary-Margaret. Let’s go.”  


Victor merely chuckled and shook his head. “I highly doubt this does anything good for your case!”  


Turning, Mary-Margaret stalked off down the street, crossing quickly to head to her second-floor loft apartment. David jogged after her. “Do you want me to leave you alone?” He asked, coming up beside her as she stopped at a door, fiddling with her keys.  


“If you want to, that’s fine. I understand. I mean…who wants to date a woman who has a crazy ex-husband like that?” She flipped through each one of her keys in turn, trying them in the door. Nothing seemed to work. Her hands were shaking as she continued to ramble. “If he’s not ruining my life one way, he thinks he can do it another, doesn’t he?”  


Taking the keys from her, David calmly put one into the lock and turned it. He opened the door for her.  


Mary-Margaret looked up at him and took in a deep breath. She offered an apologetic smile. “I don’t know why I let him get me so worked up.”  


“You shouldn’t,” he replied, reaching up to touch her cheek again. “Why don’t you get a cup of tea…maybe with some bourbon in it…and relax tonight? I’ll call you tomorrow, if that’s okay?”  


Her shoulders dropped slightly and she nodded, then paused and looked up at him. “Why don’t you have that cup of tea with me? I don’t really want to be alone with my thoughts.”  


Glancing up the stairs, then back at her, David raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? I don’t want to be overbearing on our first date.”  


“It’s not our first date,” Mary-Margaret smiled. “It’s our second. Our first was at that little bistro in Savannah. And then we went back to your apartment.”  


It was David’s turn to blush. He laughed and nodded. “Yeah. I’ll never forget it.”  


“Good,” she turned and headed up the stairs, glancing over her shoulder to make sure David followed as she made her way to her apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I LOVE you guys for all of your awesome feedback, this is a two-fer! Two chapters in one update! Click on to read more! \o/


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Long walks on the beach.

“Order up!” Emma swung past the window and grabbed the hot plate of lasagna, turning to take it to a booth near the front window. She grabbed a pitcher of water on her way and made the delivery with a smile. She poured a glass of water as the door opened and Emma watched Killian step inside, shaking the rain from his jacket.  


“Woah,” a little girl at the table said, her chair scooting across the tiled floor. “You’re spilling it.”  


Emma gasped and took the towel from over her shoulder, wiping up the mess. She apologized profusely and shook her head, laughing about being distracted while trying not to forget an order.  


With a smirk, Killian took his now “usual” seat at the counter and picked up a menu, half-eyeing it and half-watching Emma flit around the kitchen area.   


“Do you even need to look at the menu?” Emma asked as she approached, grinning at Killian.  


He laughed and shook his head, putting down the laminated menu. “No, I don’t think I actually do. Burger and onion rings, please. With a…” he paused, noticing the beer Emma had already placed in front of him. “…ah, thank you.”  


“My pleasure,” Emma smirked, grabbing the menu and moving to put his order in for the kitchen. She moved to wipe down a couple of tables, the initial dinner rush winding down for her. The tips weren’t much, but maybe she would be able to get a second job and find a way to get her own place. Living with Mary-Margaret would be nice, but…if she did decide to date someone, would she be able to have some privacy without leaving a sock on the door like they were in a dormitory?  


Killian sipped the ice-cold beer and watched Emma in the mirrored back of the bar. He pulled out his phone and shot off a text message to David.  


_**Any movement on the phone records?**_  


He placed his phone down on the bar and took another drink of his beer. The rain was driving off a few customers. With only two or three tables left in the place, Emma was able to move back to his end of the bar and wipe down the already-clean counter.  


“Awfully rainy tonight,” Emma said, nearly cringing. She really hated small talk, and here she was making it to find an excuse to talk to this guy.  


Killian chuckled and nodded. “Aye, it is. Good or bad for business?”  


Shrugging, she tossed the damp towel into the bucket of sanitizer and leaned her hip against the bar…then she paused and shifted her weight. Her back was killing her, but there was no way she could let anyone know. Clearing her throat, she nodded toward the windows. “It’s been busy, but some people wanted out of here quickly to miss the downpour.”  


“Order up!” A call from the kitchen. Moving to them, she grabbed Killian’s order from the window and moved back to place it in front of him.   


“Ah,” he smiled, then took a bite of the hot onion ring. “Mmm. Good as always.”  


”Good,” Emma smiled, turning to head back to the kitchen and work on a few things.  


Glancing down at his phone, Killian frowned. Still no answer from David. He picked up the burger and took a bite, losing himself in thought.  


As the last two customers abandoned their tables for the night, Killian watched a few lights turn out in the kitchen. He finished up the last couple of bites of his burger and pulled out his wallet. Emma emerged from the back and grabbed his plate.  


“Pie tonight?” She asked with a smirk.  


With a click of his tongue, Killian nodded, “If you let me walk you home after closing.”  


Emma hesitated. She opened her mouth and closed it, not sure what to say. Her brain had seemingly stopped functioning. Finally, she was able to shake her head. “I…not tonight. I don’t think it’s the best idea. I, um, I live with my ex-boyfriend. If he…”  


Raising his hands in surrender, Killian shook his head. “Say no more. I understand.”  


Clicking her fingernails against the ceramic plate, Emma seemed to consider something. “You know what?” She put his plate into the bus tub and turned, grabbing a slice of apple pie from the case behind her. She slid it in front of Killian and smirked. “A la mode?”  


Killian’s eyebrow raised slowly and he gave a nod. “Does this mean I’m walking you home?”  


“Halfway,” Emma smirked. She cleared her throat. “Although I should probably find out your name, first.”  


He chuckled and nodded, then offered his hand. “Killian Black.”  


Killian. The ‘K’ on the napkin caused her to speculate, but Killian was not a name she had expected. She shook his hand firmly. “Emma Swan. Just, um, let me start closing up.”  


\--  


The rain had stopped, but there was a nip in the air as Killian left the diner with Emma. He smiled at her and cautiously offered his arm. “Shall we?”  


Door locked, Emma turned to see the offered arm, and grinned. She slid her arm into his and pulled her scarf a little tighter as they took off down the street.  


“So, tell me about yourself,” she said quietly, “All I know is that you are really obsessed with onion rings.”  


Laughing, Killian nodded. “They’re a weakness. Well, I’ve just moved here. From…England,” he felt his face burn a little, hoping the color was obscured in the darkness of the early evening. Lying was the worst. It was not that he was incapable of it; he just hated to do it when it came to some people.   


“I probably should have guessed that, from the accent,” she gestured down a side street, “Um, quicker if we walk along the boardwalk.”  


“I see how it is,” he feigned offense at the thought of their walk having to be quick to avoid any further conversation.  


“No! I mean…well, it isn’t quicker…it’s…nicer,” Emma blushed and laughed, pushing her hair back from her face. “More…romantic?”  


“Better.” Killian grinned and turned down the side street, heading toward the water. “Aside from onion rings and gorgeous blonde waitresses, I’ve an affinity for novels and eighties music.”  


“Eighties music!? Woah, woah,” Emma held up a hand, trying to focus on anything but his flattery, “Like…Joan Jett and Duran Duran!?”  


“Aye, of course.” About this part, he did not have to lie. “I’m desperately trying to convince the bar downstairs from my place to have a karaoke night. Because you know I would set the place on fire.”  


“Um, I think you’re gonna have to prove that one,” Emma pulled away and crossed her arms over her chest, stopping in the middle of the empty boardwalk, conveniently illuminated by a single streetlamp overhead.   


Killian blinked and looked around. “What, here?!”  


Nodding, she smirked and remained silent, waiting for her serenade. She tapped her foot for added emphasis.  


He narrowed his gaze at her, then looked around until he found a stray bit of driftwood. Clearing his throat and holding up the twig as a microphone, he tousled his hair, eliciting a giggle from his audience of one.  


“ _I feel so unsure_ ,” he sang, really keying up the dramatic eyes and shoulder wiggles as he did so, “ _As I take your hand and lead you to…the…dance…floor…_ ” He held his hand out to Emma.  


With a laugh, she slid her hand into his and let him pull her towards his body. Killian slid the other arm around her waist as he continued to sing. Much to Emma’s surprise, his voice was smooth and calming, and absolutely in tune to George Michael’s famous hit.  


Swinging Emma into a slow turn, he continued, “ _As the music dies…something in your eyes…calls to mind the silver screen and all its sad goodbyes…_ ” He winked at her and pulled away, lifting her hand to twirl her around slightly. He put his fist to his chest and dramatically belted the chorus. “ _I’m never gonna dance again. Guilty feet I’ve got no rhythm…Though it’s easy to pretend, I know you’re not a fool…_ ”  


Emma cackled loudly, applauding him on the deserted beach. “Wow, you do know your stuff,” she bit down on her lower lip. “And you have a very nice voice, too.”  


With a slight bow, he shrugged. “I dabble in music.”  


“Well, I enjoy music too, but I’m not quite as talented. I like to read. And I have a weakness for Rocky Road ice cream,” Emma confessed as they continued to walk.   


“So what you’re saying is…when I take you out for dinner tomorrow night, we should probably end the date at that little ice cream shop in town?” Killian asked, taking her hand as he stepped closer to her.  


She was unable to stop herself from looking down at his lips as he moved closer to her, and she took in a deep breath, sliding her fingers between his. “I think…”   


The rain, which had stopped a good half hour beforehand, suddenly reappeared, pouring down over the beach in sheets. Emma gasped, then squealed and instinctively raised her free hand over her head to try and cover her hair from the inevitable.  


With a loud laugh, Killian tugged on her hand, dragging Emma toward a small park shelter on the sandy part of the beach. As they ducked for cover, the pair were completely unable to avoid getting soaked in the torrential downpour. The rain beat loudly on the roof of the rickety shelter. Killian looked to Emma, his breath slightly heavy from their dash across the sand. “You were saying?”  


Emma threw her arms around Killian’s neck and pressed her lips against his, crushing their wet bodies together in the darkness of the night. She ran her fingers up into his dark, damp locks, and found herself releasing a soft moan of pleasure against his lips. She had wanted to kiss him like that since the moment she had met him.   


When Emma’s lips were on his, it was in that moment that Killian was able to forget who he was and what he was doing. He slid his arms around her back and pulled her close, pressing his palms into her leather jacket. Killian slowly regained presence of mind and pulled back slightly, looking down into Emma’s soft green eyes. “I assume that’s a yes?” He asked, breathlessly.  


Emma nodded and leaned up to kiss him once more, tasting the rainwater on his lips. With a smile, she sunk from her tiptoes back down to her feet, feeling as if she were floating on air. “Yes, that’s…that’s a yes.”  


He grinned and reached up slightly to push some of her wet blonde hair back from her face, leaning down to give her another gentle peck on the lips. “Tomorrow, then.”  


“After my shift,” Emma breathed, toying with his jacket collar. “My ex has a work meeting down at the docks. So we’ll have to walk back through town. He…he normally doesn’t come home until really late.”  


The mention of her ex-boyfriend snapped Killian back into the reality of the situation. He clenched his jaw slightly and cleared his throat. “Normally? I take it this is a pretty common occurrence?”  


Emma shrugged. “I guess they’re monthly meetings. His buddies come up from Miami and they get trashed at the docks…oh who cares…” She waved the thought away and smiled at him. “I’m going to move in with a friend next week. So we won’t have to worry about him.”  


Miami. Meeting. Surveillance would have to be ordered. The thought of Emma leaving Gold’s house allowed him to relax a little. He nodded and leaned in to kiss her forehead. “Good,” he smiled, “probably best. You know, for everything.”  


Biting down on her lower lip, Emma nodded slowly, a seductive smirk spreading across her features. The rain began to let up and her eyes drifted up to the shelter’s roof. She seemed to shove her thoughts away and pulled back slightly, sliding her hands down his arms. “I should go,” she smiled. “Meet me at the diner at seven tomorrow?”  


Killian nodded and smiled, taking her hands into his and kissing the backs of them. “Count on it.”  


Reluctantly, Emma pulled back from him and turned, ducking out into the rain and jogging along the shore toward a brightly lit house on the beach.  


“ _Fuck_ ,” Killian whispered below his breath. “I’m in so much trouble…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all SO, SO much for continuing with me on this journey. If you like this one, check out some of my other fics. I love to hear from you! <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An evening to remember.

The trip into Boston took the better half of the morning, and Killian was glad to be able to stretch his legs as he walked up the stairs into the Federal Building. He entered the conference room which had been designated for them and took a seat at the table, next to David and a rather pale-looking Regina.  


“You coming down with something, Boss?” Killian asked, leaning back in the leather chair.   


“A baby,” Regina muttered, tapping away at her laptop.   


There was a small choking sound as David nearly spit his coffee across the table. “Come again?” Killian smirked slowly.  


Regina looked up at the two agents across from her and blinked, her expression stoic. “I’m pregnant. Knocked up. Bun in the oven. Need more explanation?”   


“Nice,” Killian grinned. “Congratulations to you and Robin.”  


“Thank you,” she finally gave a slight, yet genuine smile. “We’ve been trying for ages, but…I never knew the morning sickness would be this bad.”  


“I’m sure it’ll be worth it,” David smiled and placed his cardboard cup onto the conference room table.  


A group of suit-clad agents entered the room behind them and shut the door as they distributed into their seats.  


“Status?” A middle-aged woman asked, settling into her seat at the head of the table. “The FBI is barking at me over this one.”  


Regina’s demeanor changed as her superiors stepped into the room. She smiled to the older woman and shook her hair back from her face. “Good morning, Deborah,” she sat up a little more straight and closed her laptop. “I have two agents on the ground in Storybrooke, Maine, where Neal Gold has set up his operations, under the alias 'Neal Cassidy'. Killian Jones is point with David Nolan as backup.”  


The older woman glanced at the two men, then back to Regina. Tapping ensued as the other agents around them took notes on their tablets and smart phones. Regina gave a nod to Killian, who cleared his throat.   


“We’ve gathered intelligence that Gold will be meeting tonight with who we believe to be his suppliers from Miami,” he licked his lips. “The source indicated that this is a monthly meeting. We believe they bring enough stock to supply the Eastern seaboard.”  


The woman at the head of the table narrowed her gaze. “Who is your source?”  


“Emma Swan, the target’s live-in ex-girlfriend,” Killian shifted slightly in his seat. “I’ve had some casual encounters with her, as well as her son, who is in the classes I’m teaching at the local elementary school.”  


David made a soft snorting noise at the word 'casual' and glanced at Killian, rubbing his nose to cover the reaction. Regina stared daggers across the table at the pair of them.  


“Have we found who is distributing on behalf of Gold? Is your source involved?”   


Shaking his head, Killian frowned. “No ma’am. I think if we had more feet on the ground around Storybrooke, we might be able to run an operation tonight and see who else is involved. But I’m afraid I’m too close to take part.”  


With a short nod, the woman looked at a man at the end of the table. “Get me Meadows.”  


The man stood and left the room. Deborah, as Regina had identified her, stood. “Good work, Agents Hood, Jones, and Nolan. I’m assigning a new person to your task force to assist in the operation, beginning with tonight’s sting. I want you to brief her and get her on the road with you as soon as possible. We need to find our tertiary dealer, and fast.”  


There was a knock at the door, and a tall blonde appeared in the doorway. “You sent for me, Agent Thomas?”  


“Yes,” Deborah said, gesturing for the young woman to continue inside. “Hood, Jones, Nolan, this is Special Agent Kathryn Meadows. She’s a surveillance specialist, and she’ll be a valuable asset to your team. Godspeed.”  


With that, Agent Thomas and her entourage left the room. Agent Meadows gave a slight smile. “Hey,” she waved to the three of them. “So. Catch me up on the way?”  


\--  


The sun had set on Storybrooke, and the cool autumn air was still for once in a few weeks. Killian sat outside of Granny’s, his right foot nervously tapping on the patio where he sat in the diner’s outdoor seating area. He should be on that operation at the docks tonight, but there was no way he was canceling this date. He just hoped the operation would finish up before things got too serious. However, the pounding of his heart told him that perhaps they had.  


Emma exited the diner, her full cheeks pink as she smiled at him. Killian stood with a grin. “Hey,” he held out his arm for her, and she slid hers into it. “How was your shift?”  


With a shrug, she wrinkled her nose. “Just glad it’s over. Where are we headed?”  


“It’s a surprise,” he winked at her and led her to his car, opening the passenger’s side door. Emma slid into the seat and pulled on her belt with a bright grin.  


“I like surprises,” she said before he closed the door. Jogging around to the driver’s side, he climbed in, shoved the manual transmission into gear, and pulled away from the tiny town’s main street.  


Getting Emma out of town had been his number one priority. He was able to assume, with some confidence, that with both parents having plans, Henry would be at a friend’s house for the evening. This left the dock operation open for Nolan and Meadows to run without interference or risk of civilian injury. They would simply be gathering evidence this time, but these things were unpredictable.  


The radio was low as they wound through the tree-lined roads of Northern Maine. Killian glanced over at her and smiled. Emma caught him out of the corner of her eye.   


“What?” She asked, smiling in return.  


“You look happy, Love,” he noted with a shrug. “A lot happier than when I first met you.”  


Licking her lips, Emma watched him for a moment as he drove. “Can’t imagine why…”  


They arrived at a small log cabin-looking place at the top of a hill and headed inside. The restaurant was quiet and intimate. They were led to a window overlooking a drop off into vast forest which lined the coast. Emma gasped as she looked out the window. “Oh wow,” she whispered, watching the starlight sparkling over the hills. “This is amazing.”  


Behind her, Killian smiled and helped her to remove her coat. Once she was seated, he sat opposite her and was then able to fully appreciate the fact that she was not dressed as she usually had been on her shifts. Emma wore a sleeveless navy dress, her soft blonde curls spilling over her shoulders. The dress showed just enough cleavage to be tasteful, which Killian tried desperately to avoid as he picked up the menu and opened it, hoping to hide the blush in his cheeks. “I hear the fish is good.”  


_Success_ , she thought. Emma would have to tell Mary-Margaret that her opinion on the dress had been a good one. With a smile, she opened up her own menu and perused it for a moment, settling finally on an entrée before she put the laminated book back down on the table. She reached across, taking Killian’s hands in hers. “Thank you. You have no idea how long it’s been since I’ve been able to enjoy myself like this.”  


Her hands were soft, fingers long and slender as he slid his thumb slowly over the backs of them. “Same. My history is rocky, to say the least.”  


“Tell me?” She asked, squeezing his hands. The candle on their table flickered softly in the dim atmosphere.   


Killian nervously reached back with one hand, scratching at the back of his neck. “Well, um, I last dated a lass who…didn’t tell me she was married,” he said quietly, looking more at the table than her as he said it. He finally looked up into sympathetic, dazzling green eyes.  


Emma shook her head. “That’s awful,” she whispered, squeezing his other hand once more. “I’m so sorry.”  


He laughed and shook his head. “I wish I’d have found out before I fell in love with her. Made it so much harder when she wouldn’t leave him. He had money, you see…”  


Like Neal. Emma breathed in deeply and cleared her throat. “I haven’t been…entirely forthcoming with you. Not like that. But I haven’t told you about…my son.”  


Although he knew all of this, Killian cocked his head slightly to the side. “Your son?”  


Fear crept up in her chest and she released his hand, running her fingers through her hair before fidgeting slightly with her napkin. “I have a son. His name is Henry. He’s in the sixth grade,” she cringed. “It just didn’t come up before, that’s all.”  


Killian acted as if a light had come on. He blinked. “You’re Henry’s Mum?”  


She paused, almost mid-word, closing her mouth, then opening it again. “You know Henry?”  


He laughed and nodded. “I probably should have made the connection. How daft of me,” he chuckled. “I’m his teacher. Well, substitute for now. I assume he hasn’t talked about Mr. Black?”  


Emma slapped her forehead with the palm of her hand. “Oh my Gosh, I didn’t even…yes he has!” She laughed, blushing. “Oh no, is this a problem? Are you going to get into trouble for dating a student’s mother?”  


“No, no,” he laughed, shaking his head. “I don’t think so. I’m temporary until I get my state license, anyway. Henry’s a lovely young man. One of my favorites.”  


“Thank you,” she reached again for his hand. “You have no idea how much of an impact you’ve made. He told me you’ve helped him to make friends. And that you listen to him, unlike some of his teachers in Ohio.”  


Emma’s features lit up when she talked about her son. He could tell how much she adored him. “He, um, he’s told me about his home life. His father.”  


Her illuminated visage dimmed slightly and she nodded, her smile faltering. “Like I mentioned before, I’ll be moving out soon. Neal and I are done. Very much done. It’s just convincing him of that…that’s the problem.”  


“Are…are you in any trouble, Emma?” He asked quietly, eyes intently focused on her. “Does he…hurt you?”  


“No!” She instinctively answered, then paused, remembering the fall against the deck stairs when Neal had proposed. “I mean, not on purpose. He knocked me down one day, but he didn’t mean to. I-I don’t think he did. Besides, if he ever hit me, I’d hit him right back.”   


Killian nodded, his eyes going dark when she mentioned being hurt. Not on purpose…right. “Good. I’m glad to hear it. If he gives you any trouble, you call me or the police. And I’ll most definitely help you move, when the time comes.”  


“I’ll let you know,” she grinned.  


\--  


The docks were dark, quiet. Meadows was crouched next to David, a pair of night-vision goggles pressed to her face.   


“What’s the status?” He asked in a whisper. She had the better view from their hiding place, behind a stack of crates near the cannery.  


“He’s just…waiting,” she replied softly, lowering the goggles. “Where did you say Jones is?”  


“He’s taking care of the girlfriend,” David muttered. “Developed a relationship with her, it seems. Hoping it doesn’t blow up in his face.”  


“Oh, it will,” Meadows smirked and shook her head. “Rookie.” She raised her goggles once more as a speed boat downshifted and slowed its roll into the harbor. “Incoming.”  


Neal waved to the incoming boat, which glided slowly up to the dock. He greeted the men aboard with a handshake and a few hugs. Climbing onto the boat, he spoke with them for a few moments, then began unloading bags onto the dock.   


“I wish we’d have gotten audio down there,” David whispered, standing slightly to peek over the top of a crate. He lifted a camera, videotaping the exchange with the men.   


Gold bent and opened the bags, inspecting what had been given to him. Another man jumped off of the boat and handed him a bottle, which Neal opened. He took a swig and handed it back, whistling low after he swallowed the drink, presumably liquor of some kind. David zoomed in closely on the bottle for a moment, then turned to the bags. He could see plastic bags within.   


Kathryn leaned over slightly to grab a voice recorder, but it slipped from her fingers, landing on the wood below with a loud crack. She gasped. Neal and his men froze, then Neal grabbed a gun from his waistband and moved in their direction.  


“ _Shit_ ,” she whispered, then giggled loudly.  


David was about to comment that it was hardly the time to laugh, but then Meadows was on top of him, her hands sliding up underneath his shirt. Before he could protest, her lips were on his. He grunted slightly, and she pinched his side.  


Neal approached the crates slowly. “Who’s there?”  


Kathryn gasped and stood, pulling her shirt slightly crooked as she did so. She backed against the wall of the cannery, her eyes on the gun. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry. We were just…messing around…”  


Gun trained on the blonde, Neal glanced down at the ground, his eyes landing on David. With a raise of his eyebrow, he smirked and lowered his weapon, tucking the gun into his waistband once more. There was a glint of recognition in his eyes. “Looks like you’re settling in well…David, was it?”  


Kathryn glanced down at David, her heart racing. She pressed her lips together and tried to appear drunk, stumbling over sideways.  


“Yeah, sure am!” David was climbing up from the ground, laughing. His clothes were askew, and he was sure he had lipstick all over his face. “Sorry, are we on your property?”  


“Nah, just…fishing. There’s good stuff out here sometimes,” Neal lied. He gave a slight smile. “Have fun.” Turning, Neal shook his head and returned to his own party. Kathryn grabbed David’s hand and giggled again for effect as she dragged him away.   


Gold watched the pair go before he gathered up the remaining stock from the boat and heaved the bags onto his parked pickup truck.  


Taking off into a run, David and Kathryn moved toward town. Once they were back to Main Street, David pulled out his phone and shot a quick text to Regina and Killian as Kathryn leaned against the side of the library to catch her breath.  


_Target identified and recorded. Transaction completed at docks as source indicated. Meadows and I were spotted, but made an excuse and a getaway. Heading back your way after target leaves docks. Camera equipment left behind in retreat._  


“David?”   


He was just tucking his phone into his pocket as he heard her. Mary-Margaret was standing on the corner, a book clutched to her chest.   


“Hey, Mary-Margaret,” he smiled, moving toward her. “You’re out late.”  


Mary-Margaret’s gaze turned to Kathryn, just as disheveled as David. She then looked back to him, eyes moving over his clothing to his lips. There was a hint of pink smeared over them. Lipstick.   


The realization washed over David and he opened his mouth to explain, but his cheek was caught by a hard and fast slap. Face stinging, David watched Mary-Margaret run down the street, toward her apartment.  


“Mary-Margaret! Stop! Wait, it’s not…” he ran after her, catching her quickly. He grasped her arm gently to pull her attention back to him, wiping his face with his opposite sleeve.  


“It’s not what? You weren’t just making out with her? What the _fuck_ , David?” The petite brunette’s eyes were wild and red. A tear slipped down her cheek. “I thought you were different –“  


“I am! This isn’t what you think, at all. Listen, please. Can I explain?” Mary-Margaret wrenched away from him.  


“Don’t touch me,” she sobbed, shaking her head. “You have _lipstick_ on your face. At least Victor knew how to clean himself up when he screwed around on me.”  


Before he had a chance to say another word, she took off running once more, ducking into the lobby of her apartment building.   


\--  


After dinner, Killian drove back into Storybrooke. He had checked his phone in the restroom before they left the restaurant, getting the input on the operation. Pulling up to Granny’s, he parked the car and glanced over at Emma. “Are you sure I can’t drop you at home? Or perhaps somewhere else, away from Neal?”  


Emma laughed and shook her head. “Well, you can take me for a nightcap.” She nodded to the Rabbit Hole, just down the street. “I could probably handle another martini.”  


With a nod, he continued down the street to the bar. Once inside, Killian gave a wave to Jefferson, who was working behind the bar. “Rum, two fingers, up.” He looked to Emma to place her order.  


“Dirty vodka martini, two olives, please,” she sat at the bar top across from Killian. Here, he had a much better view of her long, slender legs. Her dress gave him just the right amount of skin to make him want more.   


The two martinis Emma had with dinner were definitely loosening her up. She slid a hand onto Killian’s thigh as they sat at the bar. “I had an amazing time tonight,” she said softly, eyes on his.  


“I’m glad. So did I,” he smiled back at her, placing a hand atop hers. _Stay professional, Jones_ , he told himself.  


“I’m moving out tomorrow,” Emma asserted, more to herself than to anyone else. “I’m done with the Neal chapter of my life. I think it’s time to start a new one.”   


“I’m glad to hear it,” Killian replied. He leaned over, giving Emma a slow, tender kiss. Her fingers found his hair and she dragged her nails along his scalp, deepening the kiss. So much for professional.  


The door chimed and a chorus of laughter followed the sound. Killian broke away from the kiss and glanced over Emma’s shoulder. _Shit, shit, shit._ Neal and his friends strolled in, talking loudly as they made their way to the bar.   


“We should get out of here,” Killian said quietly, carefully pulling some cash from his pocket and placing it on the bar.  


Emma frowned, then turned to see Neal with his Cuban friends. She took in a deep breath and shook her head. “No, I don’t think so,” she told Killian, reaching for her martini to take a drink. “We’re fine.”  


Gold turned and spotted Emma, stopping in his tracks. He raised an eyebrow and slowly stepped to the couple at the bar. “Emma,” he forced a smile, “I didn’t know you’d be out. Who’s your friend?”  


With an air of confidence, Emma gripped Killian’s hand. “Neal Cassidy, this is my date, Killian Black. He’s Henry’s teacher.”  


Neal put out his hand, eyes fixed on Killian, his expression slowly growing harder. “I’m Emma’s fiancé,” he said lowly. His eyes moved to Emma.  


“No, no you’re not. You’re my ex-boyfriend Neal. We had this discussion,” Emma stood her ground, color rising in her décolletage.  


“Did we? I seem to remember us last discussing getting married. You took the ring and said you’d think about it. I took that as a yes,” he shook his head.  


“Listen, Mate,” Killian tried to interject, avoiding having to shake Neal’s hand. “I think it’s probably best if you and your friends take yourselves elsewhere.”  


“We have a meeting with Jefferson,” Neal growled. He glanced to the man behind the bar, who nodded to him in understanding that it would probably be a minute before they were able to conduct their business.  


“Well then,” Emma sighed, grabbing her bag and her coat. She hopped down from the bar stool and adjusted her dress slightly. “I guess we’re off to your place then?” She asked Killian, raising an eyebrow.  


Killian looked back at Neal, whose jaw was set tightly, his eyes red rimmed from drinking. His best guess was that the group had killed a bottle or two before making their way to the bar. Silently, he took Emma’s hand and led her to the stairs near the entrance, heading up to his apartment.  


There was a crash of glass as they climbed the stairs, and Neal and his men laughed and shouted. Killian breathed deeply, knowing he was no longer invisible to the target. It was unlikely Gold suspected him to be an agent, but he was now on the radar as an enemy.  


At the top of the stairs, Killian fumbled a bit with his keys. Emma reached out a hand and steadied his grip, looking up at him. “I’m sorry,” she whispered softly. “I’m so sorry to bring you into all of this. I can go.”  


Killian shook his head. “No, I’m not letting you out of my sight. He’s drunk. God knows what he’ll do to you. Is Henry safe tonight?”  


Emma nodded. “He’s at Joey’s house.”  


“Good,” He managed to unlock the door and step inside. Emma followed, taking in the spacious apartment with a smile. “This is nice,” she said softly.  


Killian locked the door, engaging the deadbolt as well. He knew that would never stopped an enraged drug dealer, but at the very least, he was going to take as much precaution as he could.  


“I’ll um, I’ll take the couch,” he said, tossing his keys onto the table.   


Emma reached out, grabbing his arm and pulling him to her. “You don’t have to,” she whispered, reaching up to brush some hair from his forehead. She could tell he was tense. Leaning up, she gave him a slow kiss. Killian pulled back slightly and shook his head.   


“Not like this, Emma,” he whispered to her. “Not like this.”  


Biting down on her lip, Emma nodded and cleared her throat. She followed him to the bedroom, where he provided her with a t-shirt and turned down the bed for her.   


“I’ll just be out here,” he smiled softly, gesturing to the sofa. “Goodnight, Emma.”  


Kicking off her shoes, she sat on the edge of the bed. “Goodnight, Killian.” She watched him retreat to the sofa and sighed, closing her eyes tightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I appreciate the feedback SO much! Please share with your fandom friends!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after.

Emma woke to the smell of bacon, eggs, and most importantly – coffee. She looked around. The brick walls and stark décor were certainly not her room at Neal’s house. The events of the night before came flooding back to her. She realized the warm, soft t-shirt she was wearing belonged to Killian. Smiling at the memory of his kisses, his gentle touches, she climbed out of bed and shuffled into the bathroom to freshen up.  


Killian finished frying up the bacon and put a few pieces onto a plate just as Emma turned the corner into the kitchen.   


“Good morning, beautiful,” he smiled to her, clad in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. “How do you like your eggs?” The t-shirt he had provided her was a bit short, so he tried to avert his eyes after the initial glance.   


Emma noted the chivalrous glance and smirked. “Mmm, scrambled please,” she licked her lips, tasting the mint toothpaste she had rubbed into her teeth with her finger. She sat slowly on a chair across the kitchen island from him.   


“I hope you slept alright,” he cracked a few eggs into a bowl for her.   


“I did, thanks. Your bed is very comfortable,” she crossed her legs, “Really, you could have joined me last night. I mean…just…to sleep. I trust you.”  


“I didn’t want to scare you off with my snoring,” he teased with a wink. “Fortunately, I also have a comfortable sofa. Juice?”  


“Coffee, please,” she smiled and picked a piece of bacon from the plate before her. With his back turned, Emma could not help but examine Killian’s backside in his thin sweatpants. “I can’t thank you enough, Killian. For letting me stay here.”  


“It’s no problem, Love, really,” his phone buzzed on the counter and he glanced at it, then turned back to the stove.  


Emma knew better than to ask a guy who was texting him. After all, had she not just said she trusted him? But her curiosity ate at her. “Hope work isn’t texting you on a Sunday morning. Or is it your priest, scolding you?”  


He laughed and sat down next to her after finishing up the cooking. “Work, unfortunately.” He failed to elaborate further. “Why don’t I help you with moving your things today?”  


Emma covered her mouth after taking a particularly hot bite. She laughed and swallowed it, then stood to run and grab her phone. “I need to text Mary-Margaret and see if it’s okay.”  


Pink lace panties, he noted quietly to himself as she scurried off. He really should have provided her with some sweats, but they would have been huge on her. So, she was moving in with David’s girl. Well, who was David’s girl. The text he received had been from Dave.  


_Dude, I fucked up. I fucked up so bad. It’s a misunderstanding, but she thinks I’m messing around on her._  


Grabbing his phone, he quickly texted back.   


_**How in the world??? FYI – Swan is moving in with her today. Play it cool. You don’t know me, I don’t know you.**_  


He took another bite of his eggs as Emma came back. “Oh no,” she sighed, taking a seat at the counter once more, thumbing her phone.  


Killian raised an eyebrow as he chewed.  


“I guess…Mary-Margaret caught this guy cheating on her. I wouldn’t say he’s her boyfriend, but she really, really liked him. They had gone out in the past and were rekindling things. I guess he was making out with some blonde in the alley by the library last night,” she scrolled through a large amount of text messages.   


Well the blonde was obviously Agent Meadows, but making out? This would be an interesting story. “He sounds like a wanker,” He toyed a bit with his eggs.  


“I know. Her ex-husband cheated on her too,” she sighed again and took a sip from her coffee. “I should probably go to her. Can I call you when I need strong arms to move stuff?” She smirked.  


Chuckling, Killian nodded. “Aye, of course. You can always call me. Do you want to take a shower first?”  


Emma’s eyebrow raised slowly.   


“I mean, by yourself,” he stammered, blushing profusely. “I wouldn’t. I mean…I would, definitely, but now isn’t…the time…”  


“I’m good,” she laughed. “I’ll take one later before I give you a call. I hate to eat and run, but…thank you again.” She leaned over, giving him a gentle kiss. “You’re my hero, Killian Black.”  


He watched as she walked away, then closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. His phone pinged.  


_Got it. Meadows kissed me to cover when we blew our surveillance on the docks. Left lipstick. Ran into MM. Can’t talk my way out of this without blowing cover completely. Fuck. I don’t know what to do._  


**_I can’t let you tell her about the operation with Swan moving in with her. You’ll blow my cover, too. Just let it ride for a while. Did we get enough to pin his ass to the wall?_**  


_Yes._  


**_Good. Emma’s leaving in a few to console MM. I’ll see if I can’t convince her to let you explain some crazy story to her._**  


_Thanks. Wait. Why is Emma at your place???_  


**_…long story._**  


_Did you get your dick wet?_  


**_Fuck off, Mate. No._**  


Tossing his phone aside, Killian sighed and moved to clean up the dishes. Emma emerged in her dress from the night before, her hair pulled up into a haphazard top knot.  


“I want to make things up to you,” she said, moving close to him. She slid her hands up over his chest and around the back of his neck, massaging the strong muscles there.  


He laughed. “What makes you think you have to make anything up to me, hmm?” Sliding his arms around her waist, he gave her another kiss. “Just promise that disaster of a date isn’t our last.”  


“I wouldn’t call it a disaster,” Emma noted, leaning against him. “In fact, I’d say it was pretty amazing before Neal showed up. The disaster is waiting for me at Mary-Margaret’s place. She’s going to be a mess.”  


“Maybe it isn’t what she thinks,” he shrugged. “Did he explain it to her?”  


“I’ll find out,” she winked and leaned up, trailing his scruffy cheek with her fingertip. “I’ll call you later.”  


“Be careful,” he sighed. “Don’t go back to Neal’s place without me or the cops. I’m serious, Emma.”  


She stared into his eyes for a long moment, then leaned up and pressed her lips against his.  


Killian accepted her kiss, his arms tightening around her waist. He picked her up with a smile against her lips. Emma giggled, then deepened the kiss a bit more. He moaned against her mouth, feeling his groin twitch with arousal. Placing her back down onto her feet, he peppered her lips with tiny kisses before patting her back. “Go to your friend.”  


With a deep breath, Emma gathered herself and headed for the door. She left with a smile and a wave, before shuffling down the stairs.  


“Shower,” Killian whispered. “Cold. Fucking. Shower.”  


\--  


After his shower, Killian threw on jeans and a hoodie and drove to the base operations just outside of town. He parked the car inside and stepped into the kitchen of the small house. Regina was nibbling feebly on a soda cracker, and David’s face was firmly planted into the table.  


“Jolly lot, you two,” Killian smirked. He had a seat next to David and patted his back. “She’s gonna try to convince her to let you talk. What’s the story?”  


“I don’t know,” David croaked without lifting his head.  


Regina snickered. “You boys have more drama than a Kardashian reality show,” she finished one of her crackers and picked up another. “And I thought women were bad.”  


Leaning forward, Killian placed his forearms on the table and clasped his hands together. “Alright. What do we need to get before we can bust Gold? I’m ready to take him down.”  


“Easy there, Tiger,” Regina waved him off. “I need to get this warrant signed. Then we can raid his house. Meadows is scoping out all of his real estate holdings. She said there’s something up North on the coast that seems out of place. Tax records show it being a barn. She’s going to call in with info when she gets there.”  


David finally sat up, a red mark on his forehead. He sighed and stood to get a cup of coffee. “Are we thinking warehouse?”  


“Probably something a dealer needs,” Regina noted.   


“I should probably tell you,” Killian finally admitted, “I ran into Gold last night.”  


“What?! When were you going to tell me this, Jones!?” Regina snapped.   


“Sorry! I just…I was…drinking,” he cleared his throat. “Emma and I were sitting at the Rabbit Hole and he came in. Said he had…” He trailed off, blinking.  


“Said he had what, Killian?” David asked, staring at his best friend. He knew that look on his face.   


“A meeting with Jefferson,” Killian’s eyes widened. “Jefferson! Jefferson Hatter is the tertiary dealer. He’s the one taking the drugs from Gold and getting them out, probably to bar patrons!”  


Putting his coffee down, David moved to a white board map in the corner. He scribbled in the logistics. “Unidentified primary dealer in Miami is importing, probably from Cuba based on the guys we saw last night. Secondary – Neal Gold brings in to Storybrooke. Tertiary – Gold supplies Jefferson Hatter and Hatter filters the money through the bar, most likely.”  


Regina was already on her phone, stepping into the other room to add the information to the search warrant which was pending on a desk in Washington, D.C.   


“The IRS is going to be all over that guy for the money laundering,” Killian noted. He shook his head. “Damn. I thought he was alright.”  


David rubbed his eyes slowly and yawned. “We’ll nail the both of them to the wall. Then you can get back to nailing Gold’s girl.”  


Eyes narrowing, Killian stared at his friend. “So, Meadows kissed you, huh? Good kiss?”  


“Mush. She was just planting her lipstick on me for effect. I just forgot about it when I ran into Mary-Margaret,” David sighed and sat down at the table again, leaning back in his chair. “The quicker this is over, the better. I need to explain it all to her.”  


Killian nodded. “I know how you feel, Mate.”  


“Okay, we’re a-go as soon as they fax in the damn warrant. Who faxes anymore?” Regina asked, stepping back into the room.  


“The government,” Killian and David answered, in unison.  


\--  


“I thought he was one of the good ones, Emma,” Mary-Margaret whimpered. She was sprawled on her bed, feet dangling off the edge of the floral duvet.  


“I’m so sorry, sweetie,” Emma cooed, trying to console her friend. She was absolutely about to burst with the story of the night before, but knew it was probably the last thing Mary-Margaret wanted to hear. “I’ll get you some tea.”  


Padding to the kitchen in bare feet, Emma put on a kettle and grabbed a couple of tea cups from the cabinet.  


“Why are you so dressed up?” Mary-Margaret asked as she sat up in bed. Her gaze narrowed. “Wait. _Oh my God, Emma_ that’s a walk of shame outfit!” She pointed at her friend, finally realizing what was going on.  


“No, it’s not like that,” Emma protested, throwing up her hands in surrender. “I stayed the night there, yes. But he…he didn’t want to…”  


Suddenly forgetting about her own troubles, Mary-Margaret’s black eyebrow raised slowly. “Why not?”  


Licking her lips, Emma leaned against the counter. “I doubt you want to hear this right now.”  


Mary-Margaret shook her head and climbed off of her bed. She shuffled to Emma and grabbed a seat at the bar top of her kitchen island. “Do you think he’s gay?”  


“Definitely not gay,” Emma laughed. She toyed with the wrapper from the tea bag she placed in her cup. “We had been drinking. And we ran into Neal. He doesn’t want me going to Neal’s without someone else there. He thinks he’s going to hurt me or something. Which…is possible. He pushed me down the other day.”  


“What?! Oh my God, we are moving you and Henry in here. Today.” Mary-Margaret pressed her index finger into the countertop to make her point. “But…that’s really sweet of Killian. He didn’t want to take advantage of you.”  


“I know,” Emma blushed and bit down on her lip. “I like him. A lot. Like…yeah...”  


The smile on Mary-Margaret’s face was melancholy. She nodded. “I’m really happy for you, Emma. You deserve a nice guy.”  


“So do you,” Emma moved to the kettle, which was whistling. She poured hot water into the two cups. “Why don’t you let him explain. Just…get his side of the story. I can’t imagine it’s anything believable, but you should at least hear him out. Communication is good, right?”  


Watching the tea steam, Mary-Margaret sighed. “I just don’t want this to be happening again. I lost my marriage. Now I’m losing this guy who I’ve loved since I met him, and…I must suck in bed.”  


“Guys are generally into that, you know,” Emma teased her friend, bumping her on the shoulder. “But I seriously doubt it. Some guys just can’t keep it in their own pants.”  


Emma’s phone vibrated on the counter. Picking it up, she sighed and rolled her eyes. “What, Neal?”  


_“Are you gonna crawl back home or not?”_ An irritated voice asked. _“Your son is here waiting for you. I’m tempted to tell him his whore mother isn’t back yet because she’s busy nailing his teacher.”_  


“I’m at Mary-Margaret’s place. Why don’t you pack up some of Henry’s things? He and I are moving here with her. Today. No more discussions. This is done, Neal.” Mary-Margaret gave her a nod of confidence as Emma made an attempt to stand her ground.  


Neal laughed on the other end of the line. _“Yeah, okay. Sure. Let’s talk about this before you go running off. Face-to-face.”_  


“I just said no more talking. We’ll be there in a few. Have him waiting outside,” Emma ended the call and sighed. “Ugh. I’m so ready to move on with my life.”  


“Good for you,” Mary-Margaret smiled. She moved into hug her friend, holding onto her tightly.   


\--  


_“So, it’s a hangar, not a warehouse. He has a small Cessna sitting in here,”_ Agent Meadows stood in the middle of Gold’s North Shore property. _“Dude could flee at any minute. We need to bust him tonight. Do you think you can get the girl and the kid out of the house?”_  


“She’s moving out of his place today. I’ll make sure to keep them somewhere safe. Bummed to miss out on the action,” Killian pulled to a stop outside of the Rabbit Hole. “Be safe.”  


_“You too,”_ she replied before the line cut off. Killian pocketed his phone and climbed out of his car. He thumbed a text message to Emma.  


_Need me yet? How’s your friend?_  


“Mr. Black?” A voice asked. Killian looked up from his phone to see Jefferson. He forced a smile.  


“Hey, Jefferson. How are you? Sorry about last night…” He gestured to the bar.  


“Yeah,” Jefferson shrugged. “Hate to do this to you, man, but I’m gonna have to cancel the lease. I’m evicting you.”  


Killian’s eyebrow raised slowly. “I’m sorry?”  


“My lead investor didn’t really take very kindly to the way you and your tramp were acting in here last night, and I’m gonna have to side with the cash,” the bartender licked his lips slowly. “So get your stuff.”  


_Tramp._ Killian’s blood boiled at the word. He was more than eager to pound this drug-dealing worm into the pavement, but he knew that would spoil everything about the operation that was going down later that evening. “Right,” Killian responded, clearing his throat. His color had changed to a bright pink, and he shook his head. He walked past Jefferson and his smug smirk, up the stairs. The urge to beat on something was incredible. Not having a place to live was not the issue. It was the way he was being treated. And the way Emma was being treated.  


One box and a duffel bag later, Killian flipped the key and the bird to Jefferson as he strolled out of the bar’s front door. “Bloody tosser,” he muttered under his breath as he stuffed the items into his car.  


\--  


“Do you want me to go in with you?” Mary-Margaret asked as she and Emma pulled up outside of Neal’s house. Henry was not waiting outside, as had been agreed upon.  


“No, I can handle him. If I’m not back in ten minutes, though, call the police,” she climbed out of the car and approached the front door. The heavy wooden door was ajar. Pushing gently on it, she stepped inside and looked around. It seemed as if the place had been robbed. Papers littered the floor. Bending, Emma picked one up and found a lease agreement for a large yacht. She frowned. Day trading was profitable, but was it yacht-worthy? A black box on the sofa gave her pause. Moving carefully, she bent and lifted the lid. It was a gun safe, and it was most certainly empty.  


“Henry,” she whispered, grabbing her phone. She ran out the door and lifted the phone to her ear.  


\--  


When his phone next buzzed, Killian was on his way toward the safehouse. He picked it up without checking the name. “Hey, babe…”  


_“Jones, local PD just called. Emma called in her son as missing. Said it looked like there had been some kind of scuffle at the house and her son is gone,”_ Regina rattled off quickly. _“And I can’t get in touch with Meadows. Last I got from her was a text about a plane.”_  


Checking over his shoulder, Killian pulled a hairpin left turn and gunned the engine down the road, heading for the North Shore. If Gold was going to take his kid away from Emma, he was going to do it in the fastest way he knew. “Send Nolan to the North Shore. I think he’s running!” He barked into the phone before dropping it into the passenger’s seat.


	8. Chapter 8

As he drove, Killian threw his credentials around his neck, the gold shield dangling on a ball chain. He reached beneath the seat and tugged his spare pistol away from its Velcro hold.  


He slowed the car as he approached the gravel drive nearest the coordinates Meadows had sent to the team. Parking and shutting off the engine, he pocketed his cell phone and began a jog through the grass toward the shore. He crouched behind a line of shrubbery and sent a text to David, asking for ETA. He could see the hangar through the brush, and there was most definitely movement inside. Tucking his phone back into his pocket, he glanced around for any sign of Meadows.  


Seeing nothing, he clicked the safety off of his pistol and jogged for the hangar. He moved along the side of it carefully, then peeked around the door to see if there was a clear space to hide. He noted a large number of crates on one side of the doorway. Checking over his shoulder once more, he dove back behind the crates and shuffled to where he could see the plane. The small personal jet’s cargo space was being loaded by Jefferson, who tossed in duffel after duffel of what was presumably product. With a loud roar, the plane’s engines began kicking to life.  


Killian watched the cargo hatch close. He moved to his left to try and get a better angle on viewing the other exit. Jefferson was closing the cargo hatch. He pulled on a ball cap and grabbed another bag to sling over his shoulder. It was then that Killian froze. A dark puddle was spread across the smooth concrete floor just behind the jet. Meadows. He cursed under his breath and shot off another text to Regina, sending a code for emergency medical assistance. Glancing back to Jefferson, he watched the man start climbing the stairs into the jet. Neal appeared in the doorway and the two men spoke for a moment. Jefferson handed over the bag which he had been carrying, then tumbled backwards down the stairs as a cloud of red mist sprung into the air. The gun in Neal’s hand smoked slowly as he turned to walk back onto the plane.  


Seeing no one else around, but knowing Henry had to be there, Killian took in a deep breath and jumped out of his hiding place. He made a dash for the stairs leading up into the plane. He climbed them as quietly as possible, peering around the entry way with weapon raised. The cockpit was empty. Turning to his right, he crept slowly down the aisle between the seats. A curtain was pulled to the side, but it gave him plenty of space to hide from Neal. Over the roar of the engines, he could hear a crying child. Henry. He peered around the curtain.  


“Stop crying,” Neal ordered at the boy.  


“I want Mom! Where’s Mom?!” Henry sobbed. He was clutching his backpack against his chest. “We can’t go without her!”  


“Your Mom is probably busy with your teacher,” Neal muttered, shuffling a few things into a closet in the back of the plane. “Stupid bitch…”  


“Mr. Black?” Henry asked. It was only then that Killian realized the question was _to_ him, rather than about him. Henry had spotted him at the front of the plane. Killian lifted a finger to his lips. Since Neal was not facing him, he may have taken the question as an inquiry about the teacher’s identity.   


“Whatever his name is,” the other man sighed, pulling a bag from the closet and shoving another one into it. “Listen, when we get to Cuba, you’ll have everything you need.” A zipper sounded as Neal dug into the bag.  


Henry nodded to Killian and frowned. “I don’t want to go to Cuba. I want to stay here with Mom and my friends. I just want to go home…”  


Laughing, Neal shook his head. “No. You’re staying with me.”  


“I don’t think so,” Killian said, stepping out from behind the curtain. His gun was aimed at Neal’s center mass. “Freeze, Gold. Federal agents.”  


Pausing, Neal looked up slowly. He raised an eyebrow at Killian, then lifted his hands with a smirk. “Well…I see. Tell me, was the bitch in on it, or was she just a consolation prize?”  


“On the ground,” Killian ordered through clenched teeth. “You okay, Henry?”  


Henry nodded slowly and looked down at Neal. The boy was frozen in place.  


As Neal knelt, he put his hands back behind his head, maintaining a devilish smirk. “Pretty sweet gig you have there, man. Pretend to be friends with a kid, screw his Mom, and get paid good government money…”  


“Henry, I want you to get up slowly and get off the plane. The other agents will help make sure you’re safe,” Killian said softly, not moving his eyes from Neal. “Your father and I need to have a talk.”  


Neal’s eyes were on the boy as he followed the commands, hurrying off of the plane. “You can’t take my kid from me, Black.”  


“Jones,” Killian corrected him, stepping closer. “Agent Killian Jones, Federal Drug Enforcement Agency. Neal Gold, you have the right to remain silent…”  


Henry dashed off of the plane and ran for the approaching emergency vehicles. A dark-haired woman knelt down as she got out of her car, opening her arms to the boy. Despite the fact that she was a stranger to him, Henry ran straight into her waiting embrace, hugging her tightly.  


“It’s okay, Henry,” Regina cooed, holding the boy close. “We’re gonna get you back to your Mom.”  


David exited his vehicle and hurried toward the aircraft as the EMTs made their way to Meadows. The agent pulled his gun from his holster and started up the stairs. Only halfway up and the aircraft began to roll forward. David grasped the banister and steadied himself.  


“Killian!” He shouted up the stairs, climbing as quickly as possible. Once inside, he saw his partner on the floor of the main cabin, still and covered in a thick sheen of glistening, dark blood. A shot came from inside the cockpit, barely missing him. David turned quickly and trained his sight on Gold, who was also bloodied, but holding tightly to the plane’s throttle with one hand. He gripped Killian's pistol in the other.  


“Drop it, Gold! It’s over! You’re surrounded!”  


Neal laughed, his teeth red with blood. He shook his head. “This isn’t over.” He raised the pistol once more.  


David fired off two quick shots, directly into Gold’s chest. The man fell backward against the throttle, collapsing onto the floor of the cockpit. The aircraft picked up speed, moving down the runway.  


Jumping forward, David pushed Gold’s body away from the throttle. He sat in the seat and slammed on the brakes. There was a loud whine as the aircraft came to a stop. David threw on the emergency brake and ran to the main cabin, where Killian lay coughing and groaning.  


“Killian! C’mon, Jones, talk to me,” David knelt next to his friend. He could see blood pumping from a wound in Killian’s chest. Pressing his hands against it, he called into a radio on his shoulder.  


“Agent down! Send EMTs immediately!” Pressing harder, David cringed. Killian was groaning in agony at the pressure against his wound. His eyes fluttered and his breaths became mere gurgles.   


“You’re gonna be fine. You’ll make it. Hang in there…”  


\--  


As the local sheriff’s car pulled up to the hangar, it skidded to a stop on the gravel drive. The passenger door opened and Emma sprung from the vehicle, sprinting directly toward Henry. She had spotted him upon their arrival and could not wait to pull the boy into her arms.  


“Mom!” Henry shouted, running to his mother. He fell easily into her grasp as she sobbed, holding him tightly.   


“Henry, I’m sorry. I had no idea…I had no clue your Dad…”  


“He’s a bad guy, Mom,” Henry whispered, hugging her tightly. “He’s a bad guy. But Mr. Black saved me.”  


Emma held her son tightly as the words registered with her. Pulling back slightly, she wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “What?”  


Henry pointed to the plane on the runway. “Dad was trying to take me to Cuba. Mr. Black got onto the plane with a gun. He told me to run. He saved me.”  


“…Killian? Your teacher, Mr. Black?” Emma glanced at the plane. EMTs were rushing aboard. David climbed down the stairs, his shirt covered in blood, his expression blank. Emma’s stomach clenched as she started putting the pieces together.  


Agent Mills approached, holding out a hand to Emma. “Miss Swan, I’m Agent Regina Mills, DEA. Can I take you and your son somewhere for a debrief? We want to make sure you understand the situation.”  


Emma stammered slightly and stood, taking Regina’s hand. “Killian…where’s Killian?”  


Regina’s gaze darkened slightly. She glanced down at Henry, then cleared her throat. “We should go somewhere else and talk. I don’t think the boy should see this.”  


Nodding quickly, Emma scooped Henry up into her arms and followed Regina to a black sedan.  


\--  


“Can I get you something to drink?” Regina asked as she entered the room. They were at the Storybrooke sheriff’s station. Emma was seated on a bench underneath the windows, Henry lying next to her with his head in her lap. She stroked his hair slowly. The boy twisted the fabric of her skirt around his fingers as exhaustion began to lay heavily on his eyelids.  


Emma shook her head at Regina. “No, thank you. What…what happened?”  


With a sigh, Regina sat in a chair across from Emma. “The DEA has been following Neal for the past year and a half. We executed an undercover operation over the last month. Neal Gold has been dealing cocaine and various other narcotics throughout the East Coast. From what I understand, you thought he was a wall street broker?”  


“Day trader, he said,” Emma sighed. She closed her eyes and shook her head again. “That son of a…”  


“We placed two agents in Storybrooke. David Nolan and Killian Jones,” Regina said quietly. “I believe you know them both.”  


Emma nodded slowly. Her expression fell. “Yeah. I thought...I thought I was dating Killian. But I guess it was all a lie.”  


Leaning forward, Regina took the other woman’s hand and looked her in the eye. “Not all of it, Emma.”  


Licking her lips, Emma looked down to see Henry had fallen asleep. She glanced back up at Regina. “I think David was hurt. Is he going to be okay? He had blood all over him.”  


Clenching her jaw, Regina shook her head. She kept her voice low, as not to wake or startle the boy. “I can’t disclose exactly what happened on board that aircraft because I don’t have all of the details, yet. I’ll do my best to let you know as soon as I can. The only thing I know for sure is that Neal Gold was killed in the scuffle.”  


Emma’s head was spinning. Her heart pounded in her chest. “Oh my God,” she covered her mouth with her hands and shook her head quickly. “What am I going to tell Henry?” She whispered.  


A tear slipped down Regina’s cheek. The damn hormones were really getting to her. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”  


Thinking for a moment, Emma breathed in deeply. “Can I talk to Killian?”   


“Again, I…I don’t know what all has gone on since we left the scene. I’m waiting for updates. Hopefully, it’s not as bad as it seems.” Regina sighed. Her phone buzzed on the table. She lifted it and scrolled through a text. Her expression fell.  


Emma’s chest clenched. She bit down on her lower lip as she watched the other woman receive what seemed like bad news. “What?”  


Clearing her throat, Regina put the phone down. She took in a deep breath. “I lost an agent. She…she died en route to the hospital. Killian is still alive, but he’s critical. They’re airlifting him to Boston now.”  


\--  


“You should probably go in first,” Mary-Margaret said softly. She glanced to Henry, who was busy catching Pokemon in the waiting room. “We’ll stay here with Henry.”  


Emma nodded. Telling her son of his father’s death was hard, but the boy took it considerably well. Still, there was obviously going to be a lot of therapy in Henry’s future. Regina had already put her in touch with a Dr. Hopper at Boston Memorial. Twisting her hands nervously, Emma glanced down the hallway toward Killian’s room. “Does he look…I mean, he’s…he’s out of danger, right?”  


David shrugged. “It’s hard to say. Regina said he was talking with them last night. They haven’t upgraded his condition yet.” Rubbing Mary-Margaret’s back, David gave a slight smile. “But I’m sure seeing you will help.”  


The walk down the hallway was a long one for her, but when she reached the room, Emma gave a slight nod to the agents parked outside of the door. One smiled and opened it for her. “Miss Swan,” he grinned. “He’s been asking for you.”  


The rooms in intensive care were small, packed with dozens of machines and storage cabinets. The light was dim, but a TV was on above the door. She stepped inside, eyes on the bed in the middle of the room. Killian’s eyes were closed. He was pale, his normally pink lips nearly the color of his papery skin. Emma pressed her lips together tightly as a tear fell down her cheek. She stepped to a chair next to the bed and sat slowly. Reaching forward, she touched the back of his hand.   


Killian stirred slightly. His blue eyes fluttered in the dim light, and he groaned slightly. Turning his head, his gaze fell upon Emma. His pale lips spread into a smile as he saw her, his eyes heavy.  


“Emma,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”  


“Don’t you dare be sorry,” Emma choked out, leaning in closer. She squeezed his hand. “You saved my son’s life.”  


He swallowed hard. “I lied to you,” he frowned.   


“You had to,” Emma shrugged. “You had to get close to me to get Neal. I understand.”  


He shook his head slowly. “Wasn’t the plan. You were just a bonus.” As weak as he was, he still managed a devilish smirk.  


Blushing, Emma looked down at his hand and rubbed the back of it with her thumb. "Does this mean you're leaving town?"  


Killian blinked slowly and coughed into his free hand with a groan. "Back to Boston," he replied, watching her. "Not too bad a drive to Storybrooke. That is, if you'll let me see you and the lad."  


"No," She shook her head.  


The agent's eyes darkened, and he nodded slowly.  


"We're moving to Boston. So no, you shouldn't be driving all the way to Storybrooke. Just catch a cab." She smirked softly.  


Emma swore color bloomed into Killian's cheeks for the first time since she had entered the room. Leaning forward, she gave him a tentative kiss, which he returned, squeezing her hand.  


\--  


David held Mary-Margaret’s hand as they sat in the waiting room. Henry was focused on ‘Let’s Make a Deal’ on the television.   


“I told Emma that I thought you were one of the good guys,” Mary-Margaret said after a moment of silence. “Guess you’re more of a good guy than I thought.”  


David smiled. He turned slightly in his chair to look into her eyes. “I’d never want to hurt you, Mary-Margaret. I hope you understand, now that I’ve told you everything.”  


She nodded, a blush in her cheeks. “I do. I understand. You were just doing what you had to for your job. I’m sure kissing her didn’t mean anything.”  


“She kissed me. And it was really more like she mashed her face against mine,” David admitted. “I’m sorry she’s gone, but…we had no romantic relationship, I swear.”  


“Yeah,” Mary-Margaret frowned. “It’s sad. How can someone just…” She trailed off, looking over at Henry and going quiet.   


David simply nodded in agreement. He leaned over and kissed Mary-Margaret’s forehead. She closed her eyes and squeezed his hand. “So we can start over? No covert operations?”  


David chuckled. “Killian and I are going to be saddled with some desk work in Boston for a while. No more undercover operations. Which is good,” he reached up and tucked some of her hair back behind her ear. “So I can focus on you. Finally.”  


She blushed. “Do-over number three. Sounds like a winner.”  


Shaking his head, David cupped her cheek in his palm. “It’s never been a do-over for me. I’ve loved you since that first day. And I haven’t stopped loving you.”  


Tears welled up in her eyes. “Really?” She whispered, staring at him. “You love me?”  


David simply nodded before kissing her slowly.  


“Ugh,” Henry scoffed, “Get a room.”  


Mary-Margaret broke back from the kiss, laughing. David rubbed the tear from her cheek as she grinned at him. “I love you too.”  



	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A return to normalcy.

“Don’t you dare,” David scolded, grabbing a box from Killian’s hands. Killian sighed and moved toward David’s kitchen to grab a bottle of water.  


“Sorry, Mum,” the Englishman muttered under his breath. He uncapped the bottle and tipped it up against his lips. “Just trying to help.”  


Mary-Margaret walked into the apartment, pushing a hand truck full of boxes. “We just don’t want you to over-do it, Killian,” she smiled, knowing it was torture for the young man to sit aside while his best friend moved his girlfriend into his apartment. She leaned the hand truck onto its flat base and moved toward Killian. She rested her elbows on the kitchen’s bar top. “Emma said she’s coming into town tonight.”  


“Aye, she is,” Killian nodded. Emma had been busy putting the affairs in order in Storybrooke. She had leased an apartment in Boston, but had yet to fully move. Emma and Henry were the only family Neal had, and the money situation was a nightmare. What the government did not confiscate as part of the investigation was still subject to scrutiny over whether any of it had been legally obtained and properly taxed.  


“Is she staying with you?” David asked, moving to take a seat at the counter.  


Killian frowned and shook his head. “No, she and Henry stay at their apartment when they come into town. We haven’t…quite…had much time together. Kind of odd, this whole starting over thing. And Henry hasn’t been clued in on all of it, yet.”  


“He knows,” Mary-Margaret said, rolling her eyes. “He’s not stupid. He’s eleven. I’m sure he can see it…even just in the way you look at one another.”  


A blush crept into Killian’s cheeks and he smiled. “I know, he is a bright lad. I just don’t want to traumatize the kid after he’s just lost his father.”  


“Tell you what,” Mary-Margaret placed her palm on the counter. “I’ll have Emma drop him off here, tonight. Then you two can get re-acquainted with one another. Have a real date.”  


David blinked and glanced over at his girlfriend. “You’ve lived here for two whole hours and you’re already inviting people over.”  


Rolling her eyes, Mary-Margaret laughed. “You have an Xbox and a surround system. I’m sure he’ll be happy here if we order a pizza and lounge. Besides, I’ll make it up to you.” The look in her eyes said it all to David, who grinned in response.  


Killian feigned a gag. He shook his head. “Alright, you two. Since you won’t let me help, I’m going to get out of here.” Grabbing his keys from the countertop, he rolled his bad shoulder and moved for the door. “Wash down the counters when you’re done with them, eh? People eat here…”  


David picked up a wad of discarded packing paper and winged it at his friend, who dodged it on the way out the door.  


\--  


There was a knock at the door as Killian tasted the vodka sauce he had just finished. He put the tasting spoon aside and hurried to open it. Emma looked disheveled, but the smile on her face was one of relief. In the week that had passed since Killian’s discharge from the hospital, he had seen Emma once at a briefing in the office. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him carefully, as not to disturb the healing wounds on his chest.  


“Hello, Love,” he muttered against her hair, pulling her into his grasp. She always smelled wonderful. The scent was something warm, sweet, and distinctly Emma.  


Emma sighed happily and pulled back, closing the door behind her. “How are you feeling?” She asked with a smile, her fingers ghosting over where she knew his chest to be heavily stapled and bandaged.  


“Much better,” he nodded. He leaned in to give her a chaste kiss before pulling her toward the kitchen. “Dinner’s on. Would you like some wine?”  


“You cooked?!” Emma asked incredulously, following. She gasped at the overwhelming scent of sautéed garlic and onions once inside the kitchen. “Oh wow.”  


“Just something simple,” he smirked. Grabbing a bottle of wine from the counter, he tugged at the cork and poured two glasses.  


“Should you be mixing alcohol and painkillers?” She eyed him with a laugh.  


Killian shook his head. “No painkillers. I’m healing up well, the doctor says.”  


She took a sip from her wine. He was dressed casually in a pair of jeans, a white tee, and an open blue plaid button-down shirt. His feet were bare, and his hair was fluffy without product in it. She liked this casual side of him; casual Killian was her favorite Killian. She pushed away thoughts of what he would look like in the morning light, his arms wrapped around her. They still had yet to take that step. She certainly did not want to rush things with him and risk losing what they had.  


With a tilt of his head, he gestured toward the living room sofa, picking up his glass of wine to take that way. Emma followed, kicking off her booties and shrugging off her jacket before taking a seat next to him. Killian put his glass down on the table and grabbed Emma’s foot, bringing it onto his lap. He pressed his fingers into the center of her sole and rubbed in slow circles. “How’s the progress in Storybrooke?” He gave a sympathetic smile, knowing how hard it was for her to go through Neal’s estate.  


With a relaxed sigh, Emma closed her eyes and smiled, allowing him to rub her feet. “Getting better. I’m ready to be done with it, honestly. I talked to a couple of the lawyers yesterday, though, and they think they’ve got it sorted. Henry and I will be able to take our lump sum and move here permanently within a few months.”  


A few months seemed like a long time, but Killian was more than willing to wait. He rubbed along the inside of her arch, her soft skin pliable to his touch. “It’ll be nice to see you more often,” he mused. He watched Emma blush slightly.  


“Same,” she smiled, opening her eyes. “I want to get to know the real you, Killian Jones.”  


With a laugh, he shrugged and moved on to her other foot. “Not a lot more to know. I’m an Aquarius. I’ve worked for the DEA for about six years. My degree is from Cambridge in Economics. No family to speak of. My parents are deceased. Car accident when I was twelve.”  


Emma frowned. She watched as Killian illustrated by touching the scar on his cheek. “I was lucky enough to escape with this.”  


“I’m so sorry,” she said quietly, moving closer and taking his hand.  


He squeezed her hand softly and smiled with a shrug. “It is what it is. Besides, I think you know what it’s like.”  


“What’s the old saying? It’s better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all?” Emma shrugged as well. She swirled her wine in its glass, watching it carefully. “I never knew my parents at all. No family.”  


Killian was thoughtful for a moment. “You have a family, now.”  


“Henry,” Emma smiled. “Thanks to you, I still have him.”  


“And Mary-Margaret and David,” he noted, gently rolling his thumb along the baby-soft skin on the top of her foot.  


“And you,” Emma watched him, green eyes alight with hope. She leaned to the side and put her wine glass on the table, then pulled her legs underneath her. Sitting up, she placed a tender kiss on his lips.  


Killian released her feet when she pulled back, then slid his hand onto her hip as she came closer once more. He smiled against her lips. “I could only be so lucky,” He whispered.  


“You cook, you keep a tidy place, and you save lives. What else could a girl want?” She teased, toying with the collar of his shirt.  


Snapping back to the moment, Killian gasped. “Dinner! It’s probably done. Are you hungry?”  


Tossing her head back, Emma laughed. “Yes, yes I am.”  


\--  


Pizza crusts were strewn on paper plates across the kitchen island at David’s place. Mary-Margaret idly nibbled on her own as she watched David and Henry battle it out on the X-Box. The boy seemed content; dueling with shouts of joy and anguish as he wiggled around on the floor. David was equally engrossed in the video game. He was a man who could be both a professional and a child all in one. She loved it, and she definitely loved him. With her divorce coming to a conclusion over the next few months, she knew she wanted to spend the rest of her life with David. The notion was more real to her than any other decision she had ever made.  


“No! En garde!” David wiggled to the side, as if the movement of his body would make his character’s lightsaber more lethal.  


“En garde? Who are you, a Musketeer?!” Henry cackled. “Lightsabers, not broadswords, David!”  


“Same thing,” David groaned, cut down by Henry’s character in a final blow. He sighed and put down the controller. “Ice cream?”  


Mary-Margaret laughed from the kitchen. “Oh, as if the three cans of soda didn’t have enough sugar for the night?”  


“Hey, I’m gonna beat this kid in a lightsaber duel by morning. If we have to stay up all night doing it, I’m game,” there was a playful twinkle in David’s eye as he grinned at her.  


Henry stood and stretched. “Ice cream is good.”  


By the time the sundaes were scooped, Henry was sitting at the kitchen island, idly kicking his barstool. “So, is my Mom dating Mr. Black? I mean…Agent Jones.”  


“Killian,” David corrected the boy, drizzling some extra fudge onto his own sundae, “and I don’t know if that’s a discussion we’re allowed to have.”  


“Yes,” Mary-Margaret answered. “Your Mom is on a date tonight with Killian. How do you feel about that?”  


Henry rolled his eyes. “You sound like Dr. Hopper,” he grumbled and swirled the whipped cream atop his sundae with a fingertip. After licking the confection off of his hand, he shrugged. “I like him. And he saved me.”  


“He’s a really good guy,” David nodded. “He cares a lot about you, both.”  


“More than my Dad did,” Henry added. He looked up at the surprised faces of his caregivers for the evening. “I know now what was going on back in Storybrooke. I thought Mom and Dad were supposed to be in love because…well, because they’re my parents. But in the short time that we lived there, I can see that Mom wasn’t happy at all.”  


David frowned and glanced at Mary-Margaret, who nodded slowly. “It’s true. But she wanted to try and give you a normal life.”  


“Wasn’t very normal. My Dad was a bad guy,” Henry sighed.  


“I doubt he always was,” David offered, leaning his elbows down onto the countertop. “I think some people just get…twisted around and they can’t see things the way they should.”  


The boy nodded in agreement, taking a bite of his sundae. The kitchen went quiet as Mary-Margaret watched the two of them and desperately tried to think of a way to change the subject. Just as she opened her mouth to ask about whether the ice cream was up to snuff, Henry piped up again.  


“She dances and sings when she’s at home, now,” Henry smiled slightly. “I don’t think she knows that I’ve noticed, but I have. She’s happy. And I think it’s because of…Killian.”  


David and Mary-Margaret shared a glance, smirking.  


“I hope they have a baby. I could use a brother or sister,” the boy followed up. David choked on his ice cream.  


\--  


The television was on, but neither of them was paying much attention. The soft glow was about the only thing illuminating the dim living room as Emma was curled up on Killian’s chest. Dinner had been amazing, and now she was lazily drawing circles on his white t-shirt with her fingertips. Killian’s fingers were combing through her hair.  


“So, how many other girls have you charmed while undercover?” Emma asked the question which had been nagging at her since she had found out his true identity.  


Killian laughed. “Okay, how long have you been sitting on that one?” He patted her backside playfully. “Just you.”  


“Really?” She turned over slightly, looking down at him on the sofa. His eyes were bluer than she had ever seen them, in the low light from the TV.  


He nodded and smiled. “First and last undercover operation. I chose a good one, it seems.”  


“Getting shot by a bastard drug dealer doesn’t sound good to me,” Emma’s fingers ghosted over the spot on his shoulder where she knew he was still lightly bandaged.  


“Meeting an amazing woman is a pretty good reward,” he replied, brushing a lock of hair back from her face.  


Emma shifted to straddle his waist, and his hands slid easily onto her hips. She leaned down and placed a slow kiss against his lips, running her fingers into his thick, dark hair. Killian sighed happily against her mouth, fingers gripping a bit tighter on her sides. Her lips parted, her tongue darting out to trail across his bottom lip. He wantonly accepted her tongue, sliding a hand onto her lower back and pushing her body more firmly against his own. She tasted like wine and chocolate, a lingering flavor from their dessert of flourless cake. The closeness, the warmth of her body even through her clothes, was invigorating for him. His heart was beating a mile a minute as she moaned softly against his lips. Breaking back from the kiss, Emma lifted her head slightly and took in a deep breath.  


There was an inkling of hesitation in her gaze as Killian opened his eyes to look at her. Reaching up, he brushed his fingertips against her cheek. “Just stay.”  


Emma nodded in agreement, her posture relaxing slightly. Neal had been buried a mere two weeks ago. It seemed wrong to jump into a physical relationship so soon, despite all the man had done to her and her son. She knew the time would come for them to take things to the next level, and that she would have no hesitation about it. She smiled as she curled up against him once more, turning toward the TV. Killian reached for the remote and flipped the station.  


“I love this movie,” Emma noted.  


“You do?” Killian smirked. He placed the remote aside and rubbed her back. “It’s one of my favorites.”  


“Kismet,” Emma grinned.  


\--  


_Six months later..._  


“Remind me to thank Mary-Margaret for doing the baby shopping for me,” Killian muttered as he strolled into the office, a pink bag in-hand. “I’d have been totally lost.”  


David chuckled. “I was. She dragged me along. Everything is pink, frilly, and totally...cute. I hope we have boys, though. The little sports jerseys…”  


“Woaaah, already planning a flock of your own, there?” Pulling open the door to the break room, David and Killian were bombarded by a sea of pink balloons and streamers. The ladies in the office, it seemed, had gone a little crazy for Regina’s shower.  


After batting away a rose-colored balloon, David blushed and shrugged. “Well, yeah. Now that her divorce is final, I’m thinking…of the future. Speaking of, I’m gonna borrow you for some help after this party’s over.”  


“If there’s a beer in it, and less pink than in this room, I’m down for anything, mate,” Killian put the pink bag atop the small table full of other assorted gifts. There was a collective ‘awwww’ and a smattering of light applause as Regina entered the room. Despite the fact that she was heavily pregnant, the Supervisory Agent was still dressed in a tailored knee-length dress and blazer. The blazer most certainly would not button, but she was polished, nonetheless.  


“Wow,” Regina breathed, laughing. “Who shook the Pepto Bismol a little too hard?”  


Torture was the only way to describe the ensuing baby shower. A chorus of coos and giggles followed nearly each gift as they were opened. Killian had snared a spare folding chair and kicked up his feet, hoping he could snag a nap while Regina opened each gift in turn. Unfortunately, his plans were interrupted.  


“This one is from Agent Jones,” Regina said, reading the card. Tears welled up in her eyes and she nodded at him. The card had been his own doing, since Mary-Margaret had insisted that it be from the heart.  


Killian feigned tipping a hat in return. For all of her stiffness, he knew Regina had a softer side. He just happened to be able to tap into it with words as he praised her leadership and wished strength and happiness upon the new little girl joining the Hood family. Regina lifted a Wonder Woman onesie from the bag and laughed, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand.  


“Appropriate for any daughter of Agent Hood,” Killian smirked. He knew Mary-Margaret would not let him down, and she most certainly had not.  


Cake had been the highlight of the shower, and both men were quite thankful for the chance to each down a slice before they headed out of the office for the afternoon.  


“Now, what are we doing?” Killian asked as he strolled from the Federal building.  


David took a deep breath. “We…are going ring shopping.”  


Pausing, Killian stopped in his tracks and raised an eyebrow at his best friend. “Ring? As in…engagement ring?”  


David rolled his eyes and nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I just want to make it official.”  


“Maybe it’s all that gooey stuff upstairs, but…” Killian pulled David into a hug, patting his back. “I’m happy for you, mate.”  


The other man laughed, nodding. He returned the pats and stepped back after a moment, adjusting his shirt a bit. They were standing in the middle of a busy sidewalk in downtown Boston, hugging. Clearing his throat, he gestured down the street. “There’s a place down here. I want your opinion on a few of them.”  


Large counters full of glittering diamonds greeted them inside the jewelry store. Killian bent to examine a watch in the case to his left as David moved straight ahead and shook hands with a man behind the counter. Joining David a moment later, he sat down as directed and looked into the case. Each ring was unique. The salesman lifted a tray of rings up atop the counter and David heaved a deep sigh. He picked up two different diamond rings and held them up for Killian.  


“Which one is more like her? I mean, I like how this one’s simple, but…something’s off,” he gestured to a diamond solitaire. The other one was surrounded in a halo of small diamonds. Killian frowned. He glanced down at the case. A glint of colored gemstones caught his eye.  


“What about…something that isn’t a diamond? She’s not always the traditional type, and she sold the diamond ring that Doctor Douchebag gave her, didn’t she?”  


David looked down the row, handing the two rings back to the salesman. He slowly looked over the items within, then pointed. “That one,” he said with certainty, pointing down at a white gold band with a green stone.  


The salesman looked disappointed, but moved further down and extracted the ring for him. He held it out to David, who nodded. “That’s it.”  


Killian smiled. The look on his friend’s face was something he admired. The man was truly in love and absolutely committed to his future with Mary-Margaret. In fact, it was a face he had seen in the mirror a few times, as of late. While the salesman busied himself with the paperwork, Killian strolled through the store and glanced about. He paused in front of one case, gazing into it for a long moment, then cleared his throat.  


“Can I see…this one?” He gestured to a platinum ring with an oval diamond. The band had delicate filigree curling in tiny swirls all around it. The salesman pulled out the ring, pausing in the paperwork for a moment.  


“A good choice,” the man grinned. He looked to David. “Your friend has had a better idea, David.”  


“I’m pretty sure this one’s good, Killian,” David said, still admiring his own choice.  


“No, this…this one isn’t for Mary-Margaret,” Killian muttered softly, sitting down to examine the ring. He took in a deep breath. The only place he could imagine this particular ring was Emma’s hand. The timing was most certainly not right, but a feeling in his gut was guiding him. “I’ll take this one.”  


David looked up at his friend and stared, his jaw dropping slightly. “Dude,” he began.  


“Just…so I’m ready when the time’s right,” Killian said softly. He smirked at his best friend, a blush rising into his cheeks. “It’s not like they go bad.”  


Clapping him on the back, David nodded and grinned.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter shoves the story into its M rating, just FYI...

“I will never understand how you use those things,” Emma muttered, gesturing to Killian with her fork. She dug into her box of General Tso’s and snagged another bite.  


Clicking his chopsticks together, Killian gave her a wink. “It’s magic, Love. I’ll teach you, if you’d like.” He picked up a piece of bell pepper with the sticks and popped it into his mouth.  


Henry wiggled atop the stack of boxes across the room. He was munching happily on some fried rice. “Do we have any more boxes to get tomorrow, Mom?”   


Emma shook her head. She gave a contented smile to her son, then to Killian. “Nope, that’s it. We’re finally all done. Tomorrow, though…we unpack.”  


Henry groaned. He scooted down off of the stack of boxes upon which he had been balanced. Shuffling to the fridge, he snagged a Coke and opened it. “And I start school in two weeks, right?”  


“Mmmhmm,” Emma nodded. “Make sure you know where your uniforms are so I can press them the night before. You want to make a good impression, right?”  


“Henry does make a good impression,” Killian nodded to the boy. “This lad’s a model student. I’m sure the teachers will be quite pleased to have him in their classes.”  


“I’ll be bummed not to have my favorite teacher, though,” Henry noted, nudging Killian with his shoulder as he sat down next to him.  


“I’ll still help you with your homework,” with a blush, Killian grabbed a bit of chicken and ate it, trying to hide how much he liked hearing that from the boy. “Anytime.”  


Emma watched the pair, a swell of pride growing in her chest. She reached out and grasped Killian’s wrist, squeezing it softly. After months of painful litigation and real estate transactions, they were now permanently installed in Boston, in an apartment complex not too far down the road from Killian’s. The place was spacious for a two-bedroom, with its own master suite and plenty of large windows for natural light. The split floorplan, Emma had noted, would also come in handy. Henry’s bedroom was at the opposite end of the flat from her own.   


Emma picked up Henry’s fried rice box and closed it up, putting the leftovers into the refrigerator. She grabbed a box of dishes from the floor and began unloading, humming softly to herself.  


“I’ve been wanting to ask you a question,” Henry said quietly to the man by his side.   


Killian raised an eyebrow at the boy and put down his box of Chinese, leaning back in his chair. “Go for it. I’m an open book.”  


Taking another sip of his Coke, Henry licked his lips. “Did you kill my Dad?”  


The clinking noises from the kitchen stopped. Emma stepped back toward the two of them. “Henry,” her voice had a warning tone to it.  


Killian was a little surprised. He blinked at the boy and leaned forward, frowning. “Why do you ask?”  


Shrugging, Henry picked at a fraying spot on the knee of his jeans. “Dr. Hopper said it was okay to ask questions, if I was curious. He said I shouldn’t hide what I’m feeling about everything. And…I wanted to know if you were the one who killed him.”  


“Henry,” Emma sighed, moving to sit on the other side of her son. This time, her tone was softer. She rubbed the boy’s back slowly. “Would it make a difference if he did?”  


“No,” Killian shook his head. He cleared his throat. “I didn’t kill your Dad.”  


Emma blinked, looking up at Killian. She did not necessarily know all of the details, herself.   


“Then what happened after I left the plane?” Henry asked, frowning. “It looked like you had everything under control.”  


Looking at his hands, Killian took in a deep breath. “After you got off the plane, Neal…your Dad…and I talked. He said I couldn’t take you away from him. I told him I didn’t want to. I was just getting ready to cuff him when he looked over my shoulder. Thinking it was an associate of his, I turned my head. He grabbed my gun and shot me. Here.” He pulled his shirt aside and showed off the scar on his chest, which had healed almost completely.  


Henry looked at the wound, then nodded. “I’m sorry he did that.”  


Shaking his head, Killian continued. “Absolutely not your fault. Anyway, I lunged at him before I realized how badly injured I was. I knocked him down and I hit him, but then I couldn’t breathe because of bleeding in my lungs. He started the airplane and was just getting ready to come back to shoot me again when David climbed on board. He asked Neal to put down the gun. He did not, and went to shoot David. That’s when David fired twice. Those two shots…killed your Dad.”  


The boy looked thoughtful. He was staring over Killian’s shoulder now, the wheels obviously turning as he considered the situation. “David killed him…because he hurt you, was going to kill you, and would have probably killed David too?”  


Killian nodded. “We’re so sorry it had to end like that, Henry. I hope you can forgive both of us, someday.”  


Moving forward, Henry hugged Killian, throwing his arms around the man’s neck. The Agent was initially shocked, but he wrapped his arms in turn around the boy. Tears welled up in his eyes as he held him tightly, looking up at Emma.  


Her hands folded over her mouth, Emma nodded, tears already streaming down her cheeks. She had never heard the entire story, but she was glad the subject had been raised. Now they both knew exactly what had brought about Neal’s death. It made the situation feel more complete.   


“I’m sorry my Dad hurt you. He was bad. Thank you for saving us,” Henry said quietly. He leaned back, and Killian saw tears in his eyes.   


“Hey,” Killian said, knocking the boy softly on the chin with his fist. “Sometimes bad things happen. But we keep going.”  


Emma had gone to fetch a tissue. Henry rubbed at his watery eyes and sniffled. “And if you want to be my stepdad someday, that’d be pretty cool. You make Mom really happy.”  


Killian grinned. He nodded at the boy and gave a conspiratorial wink. “She makes me very happy, as well.”  


Henry smiled and slid off of his chair. He was halfway toward his bedroom when Emma returned. “Where’s he going?” She asked.  


“Gonna unpack my room!” Henry called as he ran across the apartment. He disappeared into his bedroom.  


“Think he’s okay?” Emma asked as she sat next to Killian. She took his hand in hers.  


“Yeah, I think he’s tough. I mean, he is your kid,” he smiled at her, leaning in to kiss her cheek.   


Emma sighed happily and wrapped her arms around him. She placed a kiss on his jaw. “Will you stay here, tonight?”  


“If that’s what you wish,” he replied, rubbing her back slowly. “Why don’t we unpack the kitchen?”  


“Please,” she smiled before standing to begin working.   


It was late when the last of the pots and pans were finally put away. Emma had walked off down the hallway to check on Henry. When she found the boy asleep in his bed, she closed the door and tip-toed back to the kitchen.   


Killian broke down the last kitchen box and placed it near the front door. Emma returned to his side and grasped his hand, leading him toward her bedroom, just beyond the kitchen.   


“Tired, Love?” He asked, meshing his fingers with hers as they walked.   


Emma shook her head slowly and closed the bedroom door once they were inside. The room was dimly lit by a lone bedside lamp. “You have to be…the bravest man I know.”  


Killian paused, raising an eyebrow. He took a seat on the edge of the bed and slipped off his shoes, smirking. “You mustn’t know many.”  


Shaking her head with an amused smile, Emma moved closer. “I mean it. How many men would have the guts to tell a kid the truth like that? Thank you. It…it means the world to both of us.”  


Holding out his hands to her, Killian pulled Emma onto his lap. She straddled him where he sat, looking down at him with a small smirk, a blush in her cheeks.  


“You both mean the world to me,” he replied, sliding his thumbs up underneath her soft grey t-shirt and rubbing in soft circles on her tender skin. “I love you, Emma.”  


Emma’s breath caught in her chest. She swallowed hard. “I love you too,” was the reply she managed, at only a barely-audible whisper. Leaning down, her lips pressed tenderly against his.   


There was no pausing this time; no reason to hesitate. It was evident from their fluid movements that each party was more than ready to finally take their relationship to the next level. Turning, Killian carefully placed Emma down on the bed, hovering just barely over her as he deepened the kiss. He rolled his hips slightly forward, pressing them down against hers. Emma’s leg snaked up around his waist and she moaned into his mouth, grasping a handful of his hair.   


She could feel the way he was already hardening against her hip, and it sent a flush of excitement over her chest and shoulders, all the way up into her cheeks. Her eyes were glittering with anticipation as he pulled back from the kiss to tug her t-shirt away. She grasped the bottom of his Henley and pulled it over his head, leaving the both of them nearly bare from the waist up. Her pink lace bra confined her breasts until he was able to flick open the clasp behind her back.   


Pulling the flimsy garment away, Killian peppered her skin with soft kisses. He dragged his scruffy cheek over her bare breast and she laughed, tilting her head back with a shiver down her spine. “That tickles,” she whispered. Despite the distance, she still wanted to remain somewhat quiet, given that her son was in the apartment.  


With a wicked grin, he cupped her left breast in his hand and dipped low, flicking his tongue against her pebbling nipple. Emma moaned, letting her back arch slightly into his touch as a pool of heat began to gather between her thighs. He moved his attention to her other breast while his hands busied themselves with the button on her jeans.   


Emma shimmied her hips, left in a pair of white cotton panties after the jeans were gone. Had she thought more about the fact that she was moving closer to her boyfriend, perhaps she would have planned her lingerie a little better. It seemed Killian, however, was quite unbothered by her lack of fancy under things. His lips ghosted over her taut stomach and he dragged his hands over her slim thighs, just feeling every inch of her hot, wanton skin.   


He stood and removed his own jeans, letting them fall to the floor. Emma’s eyes drank in the rippling muscle of his figure. She licked her lips, begging herself not to fixate on the healing wound on his shoulder. He noticed her gaze, however, and quickly bent to kiss away her worries.   


“Don’t let that in here, my love,” he whispered to her, hooking his thumbs into her panties. He tugged upward slightly and Emma lifted her hips on cue, allowing the tiny piece of cotton to slip away at his command. He tossed them aside and slid his hand up the inside of her leg, giving her one more gentle kiss before disappearing between her thighs.   


Emma gasped as she felt his touch. It had been a good two years since her last fling. One-nighters were all she ever managed after Henry was born. No emotion and little satisfaction. She knew tonight would be different; this was most certainly going to warrant a repeat performance.  


Killian’s nimble fingers slipped up against her slick folds, rubbing slowly. He purred low in his throat and leaned forward to kiss the mound of blonde curls which nested just above her center. He leaned down further and slid his tongue against her, tasting her sweet body for the very first time.  


“Oh God,” Emma moaned, louder than she had anticipated. She covered her mouth with one hand as the other dug into his hair. Her eyes rolled back into her head as he closed his lips around her most sensitive nub and gave a gentle suck.  


Killian’s own arousal was almost painful against his stomach as he lapped at her, slipping one finger into her depths. She was most certainly ready, but he wanted to be sure she was right where he wanted her. Curling another finger into her body, he smirked as she wrapped one leg over his shoulder and whimpered, bucking her hips slightly. He held her firmly within his reach, swirling his tongue over her clit in quick circles.  


Emma’s eyelids fluttered and her toes curled as she bit down hard on her lower lip. “Right…right there…” she whimpered and gasped. With shallow, urgent breaths, Emma fell over her peak into orgasm. Her walls fluttered around his long fingers as she grabbed handfuls of the bedsheets. “Oh…Killian…” she cooed as she came down, reaching for him.   


Watching her peak for him was one of the most beautiful things Killian had ever witnessed. He kissed his way up her body, over her jaw. When she pulled his lips to hers, he smiled against them. “You’re gorgeous when you cum,” he whispered, unafraid of a little dirty talk.   


“I’ll bet you are, too,” she smirked in return, reaching down to release him from his boxer briefs. She nudged down the waistband and wrapped her hand around his length, her eyes going wide with surprise. His size was more than adequate, and the idea of it got her motor running even more. “Shall I return the favor?” She asked.  


“Another time,” he whispered with a smile. He reached for his wallet and tugged out a foil packet.  


Emma reached out to touch his wrist gently, shaking her head. Killian paused, uncertain if she was less than ready to proceed. He cocked an eyebrow.   


“We’re covered. I want to feel you. Come here,” she whispered, coaxing him back to her with a crook of her finger.  


Dropping the packet immediately, he tugged off his boxer briefs and climbed over her once more. With a crushing kiss of passion, he grasped her hip and rolled his against it, rubbing the sensitive skin of his cock against her body. “God, Emma,” he whispered with a soft laugh, “I don’t know if I’ve ever been this hard in my life.”  


“Mmm…perfect,” she whispered in return, pushing on his shoulder. With a shift of her own hips, she flipped him onto his back and straddled his waist. She wasted little time with him now, needing to feel his length inside of her. Taking him in her hand, she gave his erection a few quick pumps, then shifted her hips onto him. It took a moment and a breath or two to allow her body to adjust to him.  


Killian’s eyes rolled back in his head as she took him in. He inhaled sharply and clenched his jaw, begging his body to behave just long enough not to embarrass him. Holding her by the hips, he watched Emma take well-over-half of his length before lifting up slightly. She adjusted and slid down, her tight cunt enveloping every inch of him after another moment or two. Releasing a deep breath, he looked up at his Goddess, perched perfectly upon his body. He dragged one hand down between her breasts, and over her stomach as she began to move, just feeling her.  


“Yes, Emma,” he moaned lowly. He was aware of the young man sleeping down the hall, and the very last thing he wanted to do was wake him. His wanton fingers found her quim, and he stroked slowly at her clit as she rode him, watching the way her breasts moved with each drop of her hips.  


Emma stared down at her hero, her hands on his muscled stomach. Her fingers slid up into the curly dark hair on his chest as she rocked her hips in time, moaning in return. He filled every single inch of her body, and it made her even more convinced that they were perfectly made for one another. His touch made her purr low in her throat. Her eyes met his as they moved together, bodies perfectly in sync. She pushed her long, blonde locks back from her face. She could feel another mind-blowing orgasm building, and she begged her hips to keep moving quicker, wanting to feel him inside of her as she came.   


He noticed a slight desperation take over her movements and grasped her by the waist. He lifted her slightly and helped her lie on her back before moving over her body once more. He slid back into her with ease this time, pushing his hips against hers. He saw her shiver with delight. Lifting her left leg up over his hip, he changed the angle of his thrusts, pushing deep inside of her, brushing a bit harder against that place inside he had found with his hands, before.  


Emma gasped quickly, eyes closing. She reached up for his shoulder and held it tightly, her fingernails digging ever-so-slightly into his skin. A sheen of sweat was building over his neck and shoulders as he thrust his entire length into her over and over again, moaning. “Emma,” he whispered closing his eyes.  


It was everything she could have ever asked for. With a soft cry, Emma’s back arched and she found herself rushing into an even more intense orgasm. She gasped for air. “Killian!”  


The feeling of her body reacting to his was more than he could take. Releasing a breath he did not realize he had been holding, he let go, pumping the last few times into her as he came, burying himself deep inside of her and letting his body fold over to rest his head on her chest. He listened to her heartbeat as they just breathed together, the exertion of the moment passing.   


When he felt collected enough to move, Killian grasped the bedsheets and tugged them down. He slipped slowly out of Emma and lay down beside her, pulling her body against his. Emma hummed happily as she rubbed at his chest.  


“You’re incredible,” he finally managed to whisper between breaths. With a soft giggle, she turned to look up at him.  


“Don’t you forget it, Agent Jones.”


	11. Chapter 11

“Jones,” Killian yawned into his phone as he answered it, leaning back in his desk chair.  


“My office, immediately,” Regina snapped across the line. Killian blinked as the line went dead before he had a chance to ask what was happening. Standing, he hung up the phone and hurried across the office toward Regina Hood’s door. She had returned from her maternity leave after six weeks, leaving little Katie with her stay-at-home husband, Robin. He rapped on the doorframe with lifted eyebrows.  


Regina stood from behind her desk and gestured to the other person in the room, a slim brunette with piercing blue eyes. “Agent Jones, this is Special Agent Lucas from Immigration and Customs Enforcement,” Regina said quickly, moving to shut the door after Killian stepped inside and grasped Agent Lucas’s hand to shake it. “She’s come with some information pertinent to the Gold case.”  


Killian frowned and glanced back at his superior after taking a seat next to Agent Lucas. “The Gold case was closed three months ago, Lass,” he shook his head slowly. “I don’t understand what else there could be to it.”  


“Agent Jones, we have reason to believe the primary supplier to Neal Gold is making a move to the United States from Cuba,” Agent Lucas sighed. She licked her lips slowly. “Because of the nature of the case and the publicity which surrounded it upon its conclusion, we feel it may be necessary to put you into protective custody.”  


“What!? Why? Why should this guy give two shits about Gold? He was just a secondary dealer. A loser,” Killian’s brow furrowed as he shook his head. “I highly doubt this guy would have any beef with me.”  


“That’s where you’d be wrong, Agent Jones,” the tall brunette Immigration Agent grabbed a file from her briefcase and handed it to Killian.  


Taking the file, he opened it slowly. Glancing down at the contents, he paused, then struggled to catch his breath as a look of horror spread over his features. “No,” he whispered.  


\--  


Of all of the times for traffic to be a nightmare, why now? When not stuck behind a meandering cab, Killian pressed the accelerator to the floor as he sped through the North end of Boston, heading toward the bay. It was nearly five o’clock, and he knew Emma would just be getting home from school. She had started taking classes at Boston College, aiming to get a degree in Social Work. Her experiences as an orphan had propelled her toward wanting to make changes in the system. Now everything would be…a mess.  


After parking in the garage, Killian darted up the stairs, not even bothering to wait for the elevator. He reached Emma’s apartment door and fumbled for a moment with his keys before hearing a voice by the elevator bank.  


“You’re here early,” Emma teased as she approached, a bag of groceries in-hand. “I was gonna shower before you got here.”  


His shoulders dropping slightly in relief, Killian turned and swept her into his arms, holding her tightly. “Swan! You’re okay. Thank God. Is Henry at home?”  


Emma froze, one eyebrow raising. She noted the sheen of sweat on Killian’s neck as he held her tightly, her arms pinned to her sides. “Are you okay? Yes, he should be here. School lets out around three.”  


“We need to talk. All of us,” Killian frowned and released her. He opened the apartment door and stepped inside. Henry sat in front of the television, a cheese puff halfway to his mouth, his free hand on the remote control. There was some sort of music video playing with writhing, half-dressed girls on the hood of a red convertible.  


“Not appropriate, Henry,” Emma scolded as she moved toward the kitchen. “Can you turn that off? Killian wants to talk.”  


“About what?” The boy ignored his mother’s request and nibbled on the cheese puff. “Can it wait?”  


“No, Lad, it can’t,” Killian said firmly. He grabbed the remote and turned off the television.  


Henry gave a grunt of protest and turned quickly to look at his mother in the kitchen area. “Mooooom…”  


Emma sighed and gave Henry a stern look, then glanced at her boyfriend, hands on her hips. “Okay, what is it?”  


“We have to get married,” Killian blurted.  


The silence that filled the apartment was thick with confusion. Emma’s eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”  


“I said we have to get married, Swan,” the agent repeated. He moved to her side. “You love me, don’t you?”  


Emma’s gaze turned from her seemingly psychotic boyfriend to her son, who was equally befuddled. “Well, yes. But…I don’t know if this is the right…”  


“Aren’t you supposed to get on your knee or something?” Henry asked, leaning over the back of the sofa with interest.  


Sighing heavily, Killian ran a hand through his hair. “It’s Gold,” he shook his head. “There are complications with the case.”  


Emma shook her head. “Neal’s dead, Killian. You know that. We all know that. Why…I thought you said the case was closed?”  


“Gold _senior_ ,” he emphasized. “His father. Henry’s grandfather.”  


“I have a grandfather?” Henry sat up a little straighter. He blinked a few times. “Dad never mentioned that.”  


“Neal’s father…why...why does Neal’s father want us to get married? Killian, this is really confusing,” Emma ran her hands over her face.  


His head was absolutely swimming, but he knew he had to get his facts in order to be able to explain everything properly. Taking a seat at the kitchen table, he inhaled deeply, then released a slow breath. “Neal’s father, who goes by the street name of Rumpelstiltskin, was his supplier in Cuba. He is coming to the United States, Love. To take Henry.”  


Her breath catching in her chest, Emma shook her head quickly, her eyes burning with the onset of tears. “No,” she whispered. Her voice cracked as she protested the thought. “No, he can’t have him. He doesn’t have any right.” She took a seat across from him.  


Killian reached across the table, taking one of Emma’s shaking hands into his own. He noted Henry’s stunned silence across the room and kicked another chair out so the boy could join them. “He doesn’t care that he hasn’t a right, Emma,” Killian said softly. “He’s a criminal. He’ll kill us both if we stand in his way.”  


“I don’t want to go with him,” Henry frowned, moving toward his mother.  


“I know,” Emma soothed the boy, pulling him close. She kissed the top of his head. “What do we do, Killian?”  


“They want to put us in protective custody,” Killian sighed. “The problem is…they’ll separate us.”  


A look of understanding passed over Emma’s features. “Unless we’re married.”  


Nodding slowly, Killian stared across the table at her. “It’s absolutely not the right time, Love. But believe me when I tell you that I’ve wanted to be with you since the first day I met you. And I cannot fathom being without you ever again.”  


The tears that welled up in Emma’s eyes finally spilled over and she released her grasp on Henry. Moving to Killian’s side, she placed her hands on either side of his face and nodded before kissing him slowly. “Yes,” she breathed against his lips once they parted. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”  


\--  


Mary-Margaret’s sniffles echoed in the darkened parking garage. She held David’s hand tightly, watching Killian pack the last two bags into the back of the black SUV in front of them. Emma, who wore a simple blue dress, twisted the shiny new wedding band around her left ring finger with an absent look in her eyes.  


The shorter brunette stepped forward and reached out to touch her friend’s hand. “Don’t do it, Emma,” she warned her. “Don’t blame yourself for this.”  


“I can’t help it,” she forced a pained smile, then leaned forward to hug her friend. “I’m going to miss you so much.”  


Mary-Margaret laughed, which came out as a half-sob. “Don’t do that either! We love you guys. When this all blows over, we’ll have a big party.” She held Emma tightly, rubbing her back.  


Emma nodded as she pulled back, then leaned forward to embrace David. “Take care of her,” she requested of him.  


“Of course,” he nodded and smiled, pulling Mary-Margaret back into his arms once he had released Emma. “Congratulations again. Be safe.”  


Killian stepped around to Emma’s side and kissed her temple gently. The quickie wedding in Regina’s office had hardly been what he had imagined for Emma, but it was definitely out of necessity. Just an hour past and without any celebration whatsoever, and his small family was on their way to a U.S. Marshall training camp to learn their new identities. “Dave,” he offered his hand to his friend and shook it firmly, then pulled the larger man into a bear hug. “Take care. We’ll be home when it’s all done.”  


David nodded and gave a wave at the third-row seat of the car, where a sulking Henry sat. The boy knew why they had to leave, but he had just gotten settled in a new home and a new school. His friends would forget him in no time flat.  


“Lightsaber duel when you come home, alright? I’ll buy the pizza,” David pointed at the boy, who smiled sadly and nodded, then glanced back down at the handheld video game in his lap.  


The large man behind Killian cleared his throat. “Agent Jones, it’s time.”  


With a final nod to their friends, Killian offered his hand to Emma to help her into the back seat of the car, then climbed in behind her. He gave a sad wave as the doors closed and the vehicle pulled off, leaving their identities and friends behind them in Boston.  


\--  


“Welcome to the United States, Mr. Vaughn. Are you here on business or pleasure?” The chipper customs agent asked, stamping the passport she had been handed. The man in front of her gave a sneering grin.  


“I’m here to see my grandson,” he replied with a Scottish brogue. “We’ve never met, but the lad’s father passed away recently, and I’ve come to visit.”  


“I hope you have a great time with him, then,” the girl grinned and handed it back.  


“I will,” he nodded and pulled his rolling case along, heading into JFK Airport. His driver was just outside of security, a large man with light hair and dark eyes. He handed over the suitcase and followed the man to the limousine just outside of the luggage claim doors. Settling in, he grabbed the new burner cell phone from its package and kicked off his crocodile-skin boots. The limo rocked as the driver got in.  


“Still Boston, sir?” He asked, starting the engine.  


“Boston for now,” Gold muttered, flipping through some new emails on the phone. “We’ve got to find where the government has stashed them. Boston is a start.”  


“What’s the course of action when we do find them, sir?” As he pulled into traffic, the driver set his GPS and shifted his pistol onto the passenger’s seat.  


“We’re taking the boy with us back to Cuba,” he replied, leaning back and closing his eyes. “No matter what.”  


“And the mother and her boyfriend?” He glanced in the rear-view mirror.  


The older man in the back seat dragged his finger across his throat in an unmistakable gesture. “Get rid of them.”  


\--  


The front door creaked as the former Killian Jones stepped inside the Clark family’s new home for the first time. He glanced around at the furnished dwelling, putting his bag down on the floor. Taking in a deep breath of musty air, he cringed and moved to open a couple of windows to air out the place.  


“Mr. Clark,” the relocation agent stepped up behind him, handing over two sets of keys and a garage door opener. “Welcome to Tulsa. We hope you’ll be happy here.”  


“Yes, thank you,” Killian replied in his best American accent, as he had been coached. He watched the agent head out to her car on the curb. Emma stepped into the musty living space and sighed. Since their move from Boston, it seemed as if the light had left her eyes. It made Killian’s heart ache every time he saw that morose expression on her face. Moving close, he pulled her into a tight embrace.  


“Welcome home,” he rubbed her back and kissed her forehead. “I don’t think we’ll be here for long.”  


“Hope not,” Emma muttered against his chest. She glanced up at him. “At least Henry’s excited. He saw the swing set out back. He’s already asked if we can get a dog.”  


With a smirk, Killian shrugged. “Wouldn’t hurt, I suppose.”  


There was a knock on the door frame. Killian glanced up at a young couple, who waved shyly through the storm door. Releasing Emma, he stepped forward to open up the door for them.  


“Hey, new neighbors! Sorry to bombard you right when you arrive, but I felt like it might help to know you’ve got some friends next door. We saw the moving trucks last week and we’ve been anxious to meet you ever since!” The young woman spoke, offering her hand. “I’m Ashley Herman, and this is my husband Sean.”  


Glancing back at Emma, Killian took in a deep breath before he put on the American accent once more. “Well hey there,” he greeted them, taking Ashley’s, then Sean’s hand to shake. “Kevin Clark, and this is my wife Emily. Our son Harry is out back.”  


“So nice to meet you,” Ashley grinned. “I’m sure we’ll be great friends.”  


Emma nodded and forced a smile. “Yes, I’m sure we will.” She slid her hand into Killian’s and squeezed it tightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I quite obviously left this open for a sequel. I just have to find the time and the passion to continue. I'm hoping you all enjoyed...we started undercover and we ended undercover.


End file.
